Link of Love
by Scriverane
Summary: Ah, babies. What sources of joy. What wondrous creatures. What absolute terrors. And how they come about isn't always the best thing, either. MPreg, all three couples - Rom, Ego, Tero.
1. Chapter 1, Part 1: Romantica

**Last revised ****22 Nov 2013, to better keep characters IC, and other general improvements**

**Disclaimer: Junjo Romantica is the creation of Nakamura Shungiku and belongs to her and those who hold copyright over it; obviously I am not one of them. It's not my sandbox, I'm just playing in it. This disclaimer applies to this and all subsequent chapters.**

**Warnings and whatnot: mpreg, biology!fail (basically, scientific/medical babble that really doesn't make any sense as the reason for the mpreg), smut in later chapters (individually warned for)**

**Pairings: focus will be on all the main three (Romantica, Egoist, Terrorist) eventually, background Mistake and Sumi/Haruhiko. This chapter focuses on Romantica. Egoist will start in chapter three (five on the drop-down menu) and Terrorist will start in chapter six (chapter eleven on the drop down menu). Chapters are occasionally split for length.**

**IMPORTANT: In this fic, Takahiro, etc. will already know about Misaki/Akihiko; I have a backstory to this. The story is called "And I Will Follow You Home" (Though they are completely independent of each other. Reading the oneshot is not necessary to understanding the fic, and the oneshot can very much stand on its own).**

**Other Notes: So this thing percolated in my mind until it attempted to swallow me whole, which ended up to be this... thing. I don't know how long it will go, but I have A LOT of scenes in my head. I'm aware of the fact the end of the Japanese school year is too early in this (by about a week or so); basically I screwed up my timeline a bit. This is written in limited third, and what the characters are called in narrative is dictated by which character the PoV is in; the character the PoV is from normally changes by the scene breaks. Title of this chapter cribbed from the song "Landmine" by Train; title of the story taken from the lyrics of Collective Soul's "Link". All other notes at the end.**

* * *

"37.3. You don't have a fever."

Misaki cracked one eye open to stare at Usagi sitting in a chair by their bedside, as they were currently in the older man's toy paradise of a bedroom. Paradise? More like a toy hell – he could see the creepy eyes of several of the dolls staring at him as if they were possessed. How come he'd never noticed that before?

"Maybe we should try shaking it? I heard you're supposed to do that to get a more accurate reading," Usagi suggested, contemplating the electrical thermometer in his hand.

Misaki closed his eye. "That's for a mercury thermometer, idiot. I don't even think they make those anymore." He groaned, further curling into a tight fetal position, the sheets lightly twisted around himself shifting with him. "My stomach..." he moaned, clutching his abdomen. "It hurts… I think it's decided to mutiny... soon, it will implode, soaking the sheets in its acidic remains." He opened his eyes to glare at Usagi. "Then you'll be sorry."

"What did I ever do to hurt your stomach?" Usagi asked.

"Oh, I dunno, pushing it against the bed, the kitchen counter, the bathroom counter, the couch, the armrests of the couch – nearly every armrest in the apartment, actually – the stairs, the floor, the WALL –"

"Misaki, are you trying to turn me on?"

"What the – no, you PERVERT!" As Misaki's face started to color, he sat up quickly, bending his body to see Usagi – "Ow!" He clutched his stomach again, leaning over and wincing. He turned his head to glare at Usagi. "This is so your fault, you jerk! You and your – your –" His blush was deepening, he knew it. "Your disrespect for my body!"

"Disrespect?" Usagi said, quirking an eyebrow. "To the contrary, Misaki, I always endeavor to give your body the utmost respect –"

"Ugh!" Misaki muttered, his cheeks burning. He turned away from Usagi and lay back down, grabbing the top sheet and pulling it over his head as he went.

"I really don't think your stomach's mutinying against you," Usagi said. Misaki didn't bother to peer over the sheet, afraid the man was somehow going to say something more perverted. "It's more likely that an alien life-force is about to burst forth from your body in a gruesome and terrifying manner. You didn't let an alien face hug you recently, did you?"

"Huh?" Misaki said, lowering the sheet, eying Usagi and trying to figure out when the man had gone mad. Scratch that – he was always mad.

"I had a friend in England that was obsessed with sci-fi movies – well, not so much a friend as a mortal enemy, but back then I didn't know the difference."

"Uh huh," he said, still confused and wondering what terrible thing he'd done in a former life for his current to have become so strange.

"Anyway," Usagi said, "the point is: you need to see a doctor."

"I don't need to see – wait, how did you get to that from aliens in English sci-fi movies?"

"American, actually, but that has nothing to do with it – I'm going by the fact that you're in extreme pain."

"I'm not – ugh..." Misaki groaned. Why did his body have to remind him of the pain he was experiencing right when he was denying it existed?

"Pain you have told me was due to nerves from your new job," Usagi said. "Except now it's Golden Week, and the pain seems to be the same as, if not worse than, before."

"Well, if you would just stop –"

"Misaki, I haven't even touched you for over a week," Usagi said. To Misaki's relief, he didn't sound needy, just... tired, and possibly a little frustrated. "Every time I don't have work, you've been sleeping." Okay, make that a lot frustrated. "Once you were sleeping in the middle of the afternoon!" Err, really, really frustrated.

"Well, I uh..." Misaki stuttered. He knew he'd run out of excuses, but he avoided doctors whenever he could – though Usagi didn't know that.

"Misaki, when's the last time you've seen a doctor?" Usagi asked.

Uh-oh. "Um... well, I was required to see one before I started classes at Mitsuhashi..."

"Four years ago?" Usagi said, eyes widening. He then closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, clearly exasperated. Feelings of guilt and shame began to bloom in Misaki, his chest tight and his throat painful.

"Yeah?" he said, his voice quiet.

Usagi looked at him. He sighed and ruffled Misaki's hair, making the burden of guilt that had started to form on his shoulders lighten. "Where did you go four years ago, a public clinic?" He asked.

Misaki nodded in reply.

"I'll schedule an appointment with my own doctor," Usagi said, getting up. "My cell's in my office – I'll be back in a minute."

Misaki watched him leave the room with a strong sense of impending doom starting to form in his stomach.

Or maybe it was nausea.

Or both.

It didn't take long for Usagi to reenter the room. "Yamamoto-sensei has an empty slot open in half-an-hour. Get dressed; he's a good ten minute drive from here."

Misaki groaned but complied, pushing back the covers and getting up. A fresh wave of nausea and pain hit as he got up, making him grimace. Usagi reached over and grabbed his arm to offer support. He flinched in response but didn't try to shoo him away.

"Do you need help getting dressed?" Usagi asked him, and for once, he sounded genuinely concerned without a hint of the insinuations that would typically accompany such a statement.

"No, I can do that on my own," he said, hobbling off towards the door.

After Misaki dressed, he started down stairs to see Usagi finishing off a cigarette. "You're smoking right before we go to visit a doctor?" he asked him, annoyance beginning to seep in. Usagi's smoking habits were starting to get to him lately; he wasn't sure why, but he reckoned it most likely had to do something with his new found dislike of cigarette smoke – it smelled so much worse than it ever had before. Not that he'd told Usagi, of course; he figured he would grow accustomed to it again, and he wouldn't want to burden the man with his sudden, strange aversion.

"Well, I can't smoke there, and it's not like I'm the one with the appointment," Usagi pointed out, crushing the remains of the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

"Whatever," Misaki mumbled. He opened the fridge, suddenly wanting... something. He spotted some raspberries, and grabbed them – those looked good – and then closed the door behind him.

"You're eating something despite being in extreme pain?" Usagi looked at him in bewilderment.

"I have to eat something," he pointed out. He really wanted those raspberries.

Usagi sighed. "After you have enough of those, we're going."

"Got it," he said, and popped the raspberries into his mouth, savoring the taste.

* * *

The Western-style waiting room of the office of Doctor Yamamoto Jiro reflected the affluence expected of the clientele. The walls were painted a rich beige color and lined with prints of famous impressionist and early modern paintings (it was rather evident that the doctor had a bit of an obsession with Western art). In one corner stood a large aquarium filled with brightly colored, exotic-looking fish. The chairs were all overstuffed leather, and the magazine shelves were brimming with business and high style periodicals. Plants – at least one of which was an orchid – took up every nook and cranny and soothing, wordless music piped into the room from well-hidden speakers.

"Is this really a doctor's office?" Misaki asked, with that irritated expression on his face that Akihiko found both adorable and strangely alluring, as half of the expressions his lover made were. The other half were really alluring.

"I spare no extravagance for my Misaki," he replied, and was pleased with the responding blush. It really had been too long since he'd been able to touch Misaki (really, was there ever an interval that wasn't too long?). Which, besides the obvious fact that he would rather cut off his own limb than see Misaki in pain, was the reason he'd finally reached his limit with Misaki's excuses. Once they'd figured out what the problem was and fixed it, he'd be able to screw Misaki as he should be able to.

"Usami-sensei?" He turned to see the receptionist had arrived. "You called about your..." she flipped a few pages on her clipboard, "partner, yes?"

He smiled pleasantly; he didn't need to see Misaki to know his lover was blushing, probably with a glare and twitching eyebrow.

"That's correct," Akihiko said. He approached the desk. "I assume there's some paperwork to fill out?"

"Here," she said, handing him a clipboard with some forms and a pen. "Yamamoto-sensei's with a patient, but will be with you shortly."

"Very well. Come on, Misaki," he said, turning to look at his beloved, who, as he predicted, was glaring at him, his cheeks flush and his eyebrow suffering from a sudden spasm.

"Did you have to call me your partner?" Misaki whined quietly as he followed him to the leather chairs.

"Is there another term you would have preferred?" he asked as he settled into one of the chairs next to a mahogany Baroque end table and gestured for Misaki to sit next to him.

Misaki didn't say anything as he plopped onto the chair he had motioned to, just grumbled unintelligibly. Akihiko smiled at him.

"Don't worry, Yamamoto-sensei and his employees are very discreet," he said. He put on his reading glasses and looked over the forms, then handed over some of the paperwork to Misaki. "I'll fill out the payment information; you take care of the medical information."

"Obviously," Misaki mumbled, handing over his insurance card. He looked at the paperwork, then back at Akihiko. "Uh, Usagi-san? I need a pen. And something to write on."

"Hmm? Oh." He handed over the clipboard and pen, then procured a pen from his jacket and leaned over to write on the end table.

He heard Misaki cough lightly. "Um... Usagi-san? That pen you're writing with... is that the one I got you our first Christmas?"

Akihiko looked at the pen in his hand. "Indeed it is." He looked over at Misaki and smiled. "I carry it with me everywhere. I've even replaced the ink twice."

Misaki proceeded to blush, then went back to writing, looking a bit pleased. Akihiko's smile broadened. It was often the little things that pleased his lover so much.

"Usagi-san?" Misaki said after a few moments of quiet.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Um, it's just... for 'emergency contact', I think Niichan used to list himself when I was younger, but, uh, he might be busy –"

"You can list me if you want, Misaki," he said.

Misaki said nothing but his cheeks pinkened; he nodded, and then went back to filling out his forms.

Akihiko smiled to himself as he went back to his own forms he needed to fill. It was often the little things his lover did that pleased him too.

It wasn't long before Misaki handed over his paperwork, along with the pen and clipboard, to Akihiko. "I'm done."

"Me too," Akihiko said, looking over what he'd written, "just as soon as you sign here and here." Misaki signed where he pointed, and Akihiko got up from the chair, putting his glasses away.

"Ugh," Misaki groaned, clutching his stomach.

"I'm just going to turn this in to the receptionist, I'll be right back," he told him wryly, not bothering to hide his amusement at Misaki's pain peaking the second he started walking away from him. Misaki glowered at him.

"Stupid Usagi," he muttered.

Akihiko just grinned with a playful smugness and proceeded to the front desk.

"Here you are," he said, handing over the completed forms with the pen they'd lent him and the clipboard.

"Ah, thank you very much, Usami-sensei!" the woman at the front desk said, bowing slightly. "Yamamoto-sensei should be finishing up very soon –"

The sound of a door opening and two pairs of footfalls interrupted her.

"Ah, Yamamoto-sensei and Watanabe-san!" the woman said as Yamamoto-sensei and a well-dressed patient approached the desk. Akihiko turned to greet the doctor, an older man well into his fifties, whom he'd known for several years now.

"Usami-sensei, good to see you!" Yamamoto-sensei said, the normally serious man giving a small smile. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be with you."

"I'm not here for me, but for my partner," he said, gesturing towards Misaki, who looked a strange mixture of miserable and nervous, and perhaps a little green.

"Ah, I see," the doctor said, looking at Misaki. "The same applies to him, then. A few minutes."

"Thank you. I'll tell him."

The doctor nodded and walked to the front desk, presumably to talk to the receptionist about the most recent patient.

Akihiko walked back to Misaki and sat back down, telling him what the doctor had said. Misaki swallowed uneasily and started fretting with his hands.

"There's no need to be anxious," he told him. "Yamamoto-sensei isn't one to judge."

Misaki nodded in response but his posture didn't relax at all. "I just..." He swallowed again. "There's no one else here in the waiting room. I'm not... inconveniencing him, am I?"

Akihiko relaxed a bit. Was that all he was worried about? "Yamamoto-sensei routinely keeps his practice open on Golden Week; for some of his patients, it's the only time they'll allow themselves to focus on something other than work." He put a hand on Misaki's shoulder, startling him and causing him to look up at him. "You're not being a burden." He never was, but sometimes Misaki would slip into a guilty-worry mode and needed reassurance.

"Takahashi-san?" the receptionist called out. "Yamamoto-sensei will see you now."

Misaki stood up, body tense. He took a deep breath and looked at Akihiko. "You're coming with me?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?" he replied.

Misaki shifted from foot to foot and shrugged. "If you want to," he muttered, avoiding eye contact with him, his cheeks turning a light shade of red.

Akihiko stood up and Misaki relaxed a bit, but he still appeared remarkably tense. He put his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder and leaned in towards his ear.

"What you said this morning, Misaki, I was thinking... what armrests have we missed? I was so sure I'd gotten them all." Misaki's reaction was as expected: his eyes widened and his cheeks attained a rather brilliant shade of vermilion as he stared, horrified, at him and hissed a"_pervert Usagi!"_. However, his body visibly relaxed, so Akihiko just smirked, satisfied.

He led Misaki down a long hallway to an exam room door Yamamoto-sensei motioned towards, Misaki mumbling something about the bathrooms probably having faucets in the shape of lions' heads. Misaki seemed to mention that often when they went somewhere rich; it was getting to the point that Akihiko was thinking of having some of them installed in his own bathroom at home, as much as Misaki claimed they were a waste of money. If all went well, Misaki would yell and sputter at him for being so profligate, then Akihiko would just smile at his lover's adorableness and have sex with him in the bathroom... possibly in the shower... huh, why he hadn't he installed those by now? He made a mental note to himself to do that sometime soon.

"You're thinking something perverted, aren't you?" Misaki asked him. Was he that obvious?

"Now, why would you think that, Misaki?" he said. "Unless you are –"

"Perverted Usagi," Misaki grumbled, and turned into the room Yamamoto-sensei had indicated.


	2. Chapter 1, Part 2: Romantica

The exam room was a bright, medical white. Along one wall was an exam room table, a chair similar to those in the waiting room beside it. A mahogany desk was on the other end, along with a Spartan, matching chair. On the other side of the room was a large, clean monolithic cabinet and counter. Various medical accoutrements hung on the wall in between them.

Akihiko took to the comfy chair while Misaki hauled himself on to the table.

Yamamoto-sensei settled into the remaining chair. "So, Takahashi-san, nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you from Usami-san."

Misaki looked at Akihiko quizzically, but he kept a poker face. He'd had to mention him when he'd gotten blood tests to check for STIs and so forth. Okay, maybe not in such detail, but it felt good to tell someone else about his male lover and not worry about what they'd think.

"Don't worry, none of it's been bad," Yamamoto-sensei reassured Misaki. "I want to start by taking your vitals – normally, I'd have a nurse do it, but it's just me here today. Would you please hold out your left arm so I can take your blood pressure?"

He did so, watching with trepidation as Yamamoto-sensei took the cuff off the wall and placed it on his arm. After taking his blood pressure, Yamamoto-sensei asked him if he was nervous. "A bit," he said, shifting awkwardly.

Yamamoto-sensei nodded as he folded the cuff and put it away. "It shows up in the reading, but don't worry, you're fine. I'm going to take your pulse next, so keep your arm out."

"Ah, okay." As Yamamoto-sensei began to take his pulse, Misaki looked at Akihiko, who smiled at him encouragingly.

"What happened?" Yamamoto-sensei said suddenly. "The rate just spiked up."

Misaki just blushed. "I dunno..."

"I smiled at him," Akihiko said bluntly. Misaki's blush deepened.

"Ah, I see... Don't do that," the doctor said, and set about taking his pulse again.

"Pulse is good," Yamamoto-sensei said after a minute, and picked up a thermometer off from the wall. "I want to take your temperature now."

"It was 37.3 this morning when I woke up," Misaki said.

"I still want to take it now, if only for the records." He put the thermometer in Misaki's mouth, before going back to Misaki's papers. "It will only take a minute."

The doctor wrote down a few things on a pad of paper on his desk, looking over the paperwork Misaki had filled out. At the beeping sound, he checked the result.

"37," he said. Yamamoto-sensei looked a bit befuddled. "That 37.3... You said you took before you got out of bed?"

"Pretty much right after I woke up, yeah. I didn't move – Usagi – err, Usami-sensei got the thermometer for me."

"That's odd," Yamamoto-sensei said. "Nothing serious, though; different thermometers sometimes give out different readings. Anyway, you don't have a fever."

Yamamoto-sensei gave Misaki a small smile. "Now this pain – you wrote you've been experiencing it for several weeks now?"

"Since around mid-March – so about a month and half now, maybe a little less."

"And it's been fairly consistent?"

"Yeah, though it spikes some times."

The doctor nodded, marking the papers on the desk. "Can you rate the pain on a scale of one to ten?"

Misaki picked at his shirt. "Uh, it varies from a five to a ten."

"Any nausea?"

"Quite a bit, actually."

"Vomiting?"

Misaki shifted a bit as his posture became more downcast. "Some." Akihiko raised an eyebrow – Misaki hadn't told him anything about that. "I uh, started a new job recently –"

"Have you ever vomited due to nerves before?"

"No," Misaki admitted in a small voice, shoulders hunched.

"Any other symptoms?" the doctor continued with his questioning.

"Not that I can think of," Misaki said.

Akihiko butted in with, "Fatigue. I've seen him sleeping in the daytime, and yawning more often."

"Oh yeah, that," Misaki said.

Akihiko had to resist the urge to smack his own forehead.

The doctor studied the paper in front of him, looking as though he was thinking of something he'd rather not. "Before the pain started, did you have a bad fever?"

"Actually, I did – it lasted, what, two days?" Misaki looked at Akihiko for confirmation.

"Just about, yeah," he said, a bit shakily. He remembered those two days in vivid detail – a day or two after Misaki had graduated from Mitsuhashi, he'd abruptly come down with a fever that had rapidly climbed to 39.5. He'd refused to go to the hospital, and Akihiko had called Hiroki in a blind panic, who'd gotten his doctor-boyfriend (a pediatrician-in-training, but he had enough medical knowledge to treat a fever in an adult, obviously) to rush over to his apartment. After examining him, Kusama-sensei (he'd glowered at Akihiko when he'd called him Nowaki, which was what he thought of him as since Hiroki referred to him as Nowaki whenever Akihiko got him drunk enough to talk about his love life) had given Misaki some fever reducers and told Akihiko to drag Misaki to the hospital if he got any worse. Thankfully, his fever had broken soon after, and he spent the next day recovering under Akihiko's watchful eye. Those two days had been amongst the most terrifying of Akihiko's life.

"It went away pretty fast, though," Misaki said to Yamamoto-sensei and the doctor nodded, looking solemn. Misaki's face took on an expression of panic. "What –"

"I'm going to perform a test that involves pricking your finger," the doctor interrupted him, rummaging through the top drawer of the desk. "Ah, here it is – it's to test the iron levels in your blood. It gives very quick results. After that, I'm going to have to ask you to provide a urine sample."

"Do you know what's wrong already?" Misaki asked as Yamamoto-sensei came forward and cleansed his middle finger with an antiseptic wipe.

"I have my suspicions," he said. "Now this will hurt for a second –"

"Ouch!" he yelped.

"It shouldn't hurt that much," Yamamoto-sensei said, raising an eyebrow.

Misaki blushed. "I always react that way to needles."

The doctor nodded and put a bandage over Misaki's finger before he went to the counter to do the test. Akihiko reached over to Misaki and rubbed his hand.

"Idiot Usagi," he grumbled, but did not bat his hand away.

The thermometer beeped. Yamamoto-sensei looked at the test result. "As I thought: your iron levels are low, causing your fatigue."

"That's it?" Misaki said, eyes wide and voice a little high-pitched. "Low iron?"

"Well, no – anemia in men is rare, and it doesn't explain the pain and vomiting. I'll need a urine sample; the men's room is down the hall, second door on the left."

Akihiko reached out to steady Misaki as he got up from the exam room table, as he'd done when Misaki had gotten up that morning. He was unsure if he should walk with him to the bathroom, so he took a tentative step forward. Yamamoto-sensei looked at him.

"Ah, Usami-san, could you stay behind as Misaki temporarily leaves us? I have some questions I'd like to ask you, if you don't mind," the doctor said. Akihiko looked at his lover.

"I'll be fine, Usagi-san. I can go to the bathroom by myself." The tone was a bit dry at the latter sentence. He watched as Misaki walked out of the room, the door soundly shut before he turned to talk to Yamamoto-sensei.

"So, what do you want to ask me about? Something about Western art, again?" he said, bored and a bit annoyed at the doctor for asking him to stay behind when Misaki went off on his own, even if it was only for a moment. His fingers itched for a cigarette, but he wouldn't dare smoke in front of a doctor.

"Well, I did buy a lovely new print of a Monet... but, no Usami-san, I wanted to ask you some things I wasn't sure Takahashi-san would be comfortable disclosing," Yamamoto-sensei began. "I wouldn't typically do this, but Takahashi-san looked uncomfortable enough as it is..."

"You want to ask me questions about our sex life?" he asked. He wasn't stupid; he could figure out what questions would make his Misaki extremely uncomfortable that he'd know about. Still, he wasn't sure what that had to do with his illness.

"Yes," the doctor said. "After Takahashi-san had the fever last March – when in March was that, by the way –"

"March thirteenth and fourteenth; it started after his graduation party two days earlier." He had wondered at the time if all the stress of what had essentially been Misaki's coming out at the party had, in part, caused his lover's sickness. He'd hoped not; he didn't want to be the cause, however indirectly, of so much pain to Misaki.

"So, at any point after that time, did you have unprotected anal sex with Takahashi-san on the receiving end?" the doctor asked, his face stony, apparently unfazed by the question he'd just asked.

"Yes," he said, disturbed by how... clinical Yamamoto-sensei made making love to Misaki sound. Well, he was a professional, after all.

The doctor made a slight grunting noise, nodding his head. "Did the symptoms start after one of those... sessions?"

He paused for a moment. He'd had sex with Misaki as soon as he felt well enough for it. "Yes," he said. "But I'm clean, you know that –"

"That's not what this is about," Yamamoto-sensei said, further confusing the hell out of him. The man usually wasn't this cryptic, what the devil was going on–

Before he could ask any questions of the doctor, he was interrupted by the click of the door opening and the slight sound of the door turning on its hinges. Misaki shuffled in, cup in hand, which he wordlessly handed over to Yamamoto-sensei.

"Thank you, Takahashi-san," the doctor said. "Now, if you'd just sit tight for the time being; I'm going to run this through a few fairly quick tests in another room."

"Okay," Misaki said quietly, and perched on the exam room table as Yamamoto-sensei left the room. He didn't look at Akihiko, just stared at his hands. Akihiko wasn't sure what to say; his throat felt dry and there was an ominous feeling settling into his gut.

"Yamamoto-sensei normally isn't so vague," he said, finally managing to make his mouth form words. "He's usually very blunt."

"Like you?" Misaki asked, his voice small. "Is that why you like him as a doctor?"

He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "I guess so," he said. "When I was a child, I enjoyed going to the doctor... it was someone who was willing to pay attention to me, and truly seemed concerned for my well-being. For a while when I was on my own, I didn't bother with going to the doctor, which resulted in some bad bouts of sickness I didn't know how to treat and Aikawa-san yelling at me a lot – more so than usual, anyway. I'm amazed I didn't lose my hearing. Anyway, I found Yamamoto-sensei and I've been pretty good at keeping up with appointments ever since."

Misaki had been watching him the entire time he'd been speaking, but now he looked back at his hands. His voice was so quiet Akihiko almost had to strain to hear. "After... When it was just Niichan and me, the doctors were always very concerned with my nutrition, far more than they'd been before. They'd ask me if I'd gotten enough to eat, if I had enough attention – one of them asked me if I'd rather have two parents. Some of them were okay – they treated me the same as when... as before, but..." Misaki trailed off, swallowing slowly. Akihiko had nothing to say to that, so he just touched his hand, clasping his cold hand around his lover's warm one.

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, the soft sounds of breathing the only noise in the room as Akihiko aimlessly rubbed Misaki's knuckles with his thumb.

"Usagi-san," Misaki said suddenly. Akihiko looked up from their hands to meet his gaze; his olive green eyes were wide, his lips and chin starting to tremble. "What if –"

Misaki, much to Akihiko's inexplicable relief, didn't get to finish his thought. The door swung open and Yamamoto-sensei walked in carrying papers and colorful pamphlets.

"It was as I suspected," Yamamoto-sensei said. Misaki's posture went rigid and he grimaced slightly. "Takahashi-san, you're pregnant."

The world seemed to take on a surreal patina, like Akihiko was one step away from actual reality, and possibly one step away from himself. His head felt light, almost weightless, and, for a split second, it was as if there were no emotions within him. He closed his eyes and let himself refocus, gripping his arm tightly, needing something solid to hold on to; he could sense his pulse beneath his palm. He took a slow breath, and a wave of emotions crashed down on him, like they'd been let free from the confines of a dam. Akihiko couldn't process his feelings all at once, so he put as much mental focus as he could into what the doctor had told them.

Had Yamamoto-sensei lost his mind? As far as he knew, the man wasn't one for practical jokes, especially when it came to his profession. No, Yamamoto-sensei was completely serious. A numb shock settled into him at this thought; the groundswell of emotions briefly froze. The man was serious.

A shriek of hysterical laughter resounded through the room, and Akihiko looked at Misaki to see he was doubled over and shaking with both laughter and tears.

"The fever you experienced was a sign of the pathogen," Yamamoto-sensei explained, "a new mutated virus, first seen in Norway, which temporarily activates a part of the genome related to the Y chromosome, allowing you to be able to reproduce via anal sex – it's rather complicated..."

Misaki's laughter had stopped now; he was just shaking, and Akihiko honestly had no idea if he'd even processed anything the doctor had said.

"By my estimates, you should be around the seventh week. Abortion is possible, but it's only been performed seven times in males – in all cases, it didn't stop the symptoms normally accompanying pregnancy for several months. In addition, it's a risky procedure – based on the few male abortions and male completed pregnancies we've had so far – the medical community has been keeping these things quiet – anyway, the latter operation is easier, to put it simply. If you would like to terminate the pregnancy, I can schedule an appointment with a surgeon who would be willing to perform it for you. Otherwise, I can recommend an obstetrician who has kept up to date with the current phenomenon. It's your choice."

Misaki had stopped shaking, and was contemplating his hands again. "Can I have some time to sleep on it?" he asked, still not looking up.

"Of course," Yamamoto-sensei said. "I have some pamphlets that explain the condition and what is known about it so far – I think the English one is a better translation from the original Norwegian than the Japanese, personally." He handed a few of the pamphlets to Akihiko and then a few to Misaki, who reached out unsteadily to grab them.

"For now, I'm going to give you some pre-natal vitamins – they have iron in them, to help with the anemia, and should supplement what your body's missing and needs more of. I only have a few here, so I'll give you a prescription for more of them. Also, I'm going to recommend a prescription-level dose of ibuprofen for the pain – do you have that at home?" Misaki nodded. "Good. 800 milligrams should do it – I'll write out the instructions for it, give me a moment – I'll look into getting you something stronger if that doesn't work. As for the nausea, there's not much I can do, I'm afraid; it will stop after the first trimester, so just wait it out. I'd like to eventually take a blood sample from you, but if you'd rather wait on that –"

"Yeah," he said. "I just want to go home."

Yamamoto-sensei nodded. "As you wish," he said. "Give me a minute to write some instructions, and I'll send you off."

As the doctor wrote down the instructions, Akihiko didn't know what to think. His main concern was Misaki. A stab in the gut had hit him when he'd realized he was, however unintentionally, a cause for Misaki's pain, but right now, the only thing that mattered was Misaki. He reached out to rub his arm. Misaki looked at him. His large eyes betrayed a mixture of emotion – shock, pain, fear – but they relaxed a bit in their intensity when Akihiko put his arm around him.

"Let's go home," Akihiko said, and Misaki simply nodded.

* * *

Misaki didn't look at Usagi the entire ride home. How could he? He was some freak of nature now – the fact that this had happened to others did little to comfort him. He'd grown up with the fact that only women could birth children, and always accepted that as truth. It had only been in the past few years he'd begun to accept the idea that two men could love each other like he and Usagi did (men like women and grow up to marry them was something he'd been told his childhood years and always assumed to be true for everyone). This – this – was far too much for him to accept in so short a time. So he shut his eyes and tried to ignore any painful lurch in his stomach that reminded him of the thing he couldn't deal with.

Back at the apartment, his first action was to get the ibuprofen out of the bathroom cabinet and take the dose the doctor had recommended, along with the iron pills the doctor had given him. He'd occasionally taken over-the-counter painkillers since the pain started, but they hadn't done much, and he'd been too nervous to take a large dose. Hopefully this would diminish the pain enough.

When he walked into the living room, Usagi was sitting on the couch, silver bangs shading his eyes. Misaki ignored him; he hadn't had anything to eat since the raspberries earlier, and he was hungry. Eating for two, his mind supplied for him, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. He opened the door to the fridge and looked for... salmon. He really wanted salmon. And did they have any more raspberries? Or at least some other juicy red fruit... I'm having pregnancy cravings, he realized, and gripped the door handle of the fridge to stop himself from shaking.

As he began preparing the salmon, he heard the unusually soft steps of Usagi closing in on him. He focused on chopping the fish, trying to ignore Usagi, but before he knew it, he felt those familiar arms enclose him in their hold, far more tentative than usual.

"I'm sorry," Usagi said, his breath tickling his ear, "for the pain I've caused you."

Misaki swallowed down the lump in his throat. "It's not your fault. You couldn't possibly have known." Oh no, the words he'd said sounded like the words he'd heard when he was eight – why was he being so sensitive? Wait, don't follow that thought – and he was remembering – and what would his parents think of him now?

"Misaki," Usagi said, hugging him closer.

"I'm cutting up salmon, Usagi-san," was all he said.

Usagi released him then, making his heart reel, and Misaki focused his thoughts on salmon and spices and the crackle of the frying pan.

"Misaki," Usagi said again, later, as he walked over to the dining table where Usagi was seated, two plates of fried salmon and misozuke in hand. He put one plate in front of Usagi and then took a seat himself.

"Itadakimasu," he said and then started to eat, deliberately not looking at Usagi.

"Itadakimasu," he heard him mutter after a few moments.

After Misaki had finished eating, said the closing words, and put his dishes in the sink, he announced he was going to lie down.

"Misaki," Usagi said, and he heard the scraping of the chair against the floor as he headed toward the staircase. He hadn't even reached the first step before he felt those warm arms around him again.

"Usagi-san, what are you doing?"

The man didn't say anything, just picked him in his arms, and carried him upstairs.

"Usagi-san! Not now! Please! I really don't want to, not now –"

But Usagi didn't stop, just plopped him on the giant bed of his toy-infested bedroom.

Misaki closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Usagi-san, I truly don't want to –"

"I know," the older man said, and he realized Usagi was lying next to him on the bed, not moving at all. He felt him grab his hand and squeeze it. "Misaki." Then, "You need to decide."

"I know, Usagi-san," he said, and when Usagi didn't say anything else, he looked over at him to see him staring right back him with nothing more than concern in his lavender eyes. "What do you think?" he asked him.

He didn't even flinch. "Whatever you decide, I'll support you," Usagi said.

"But you don't like children," Misaki said, lip trembling. The last thing he wanted was to burden Usagi with something he didn't want. "I mean, you really don't like children. Are you sure you're –"

"Misaki," Usagi interrupted, his voice and eyes loving and soft, "with you, everything is different. I would be willing to raise a child that came from you, if that's what you wanted."

The words made his eyes a bit teary and his insides a pleasant mush. He felt a pleased blush form on his cheeks. Still, he worried. "But," Misaki continued nervously, "you won't be jealous of the attention I'd have to give?" He remembered how Usagi had been when they'd watched over Mahiro.

"I can share," Usagi said.

Misaki snorted.

Usagi raised an eyebrow. "I can. However, I wouldn't be the only one whom would have to deal with their lover diverting their attention elsewhere. Are you sure you won't get jealous, Misaki?"

Misaki rolled his eyes. "As if," he mumbled.

"I'd be okay, Misaki. Besides," Akihiko said with a tender expression, "I spent my own childhood watching shows from Japan so I could learn Japanese. And every one of those shows had a loving Japanese family. I used to pretend to be in one of those families, particularly when my mother would be very noisy coming home late, drunk and bringing a new beau home, or getting into a tremendous fight with one of her many lovers." For a moment, Misaki felt like he was going to really cry. To make it worse, Akihiko's face had taken on a harsh, rough demeanor. "When I came to Japan, I really thought my family would fix itself, it would become one happy and loving family." He snorted. "Of course, nothing like that ever came close to happening."

"Usagi-san," Misaki murmured, watching the rise and fall of his lover's chest.

The sharp, pained look to his eyes gave way to a gentler one as he heard Misaki say his name. "So, like I said: it's your decision."

Misaki nodded and closed his eyes. There was a warm, pleasant sensation in his chest, but mixed in with that was anxiety and an empathetic ache that came from hearing Usagi's story.

What was he going to do? Right now, he had two choices. Both of them, according to the doctor, involved some degree of sickness; in either case, his body was going to be experiencing things and symptoms he couldn't control. But in that he had no choice, and as frustrating as that was, he at least had the chance to make a decision over something now.

One of the two choices available to him was more dangerous, but that would allow him to be able to continue to work without having to take time off. The other... well, he'd have to deal with not working for a few months, probably (he'd never actually bothered to even think about what family leave entailed), but he could do that if he had to... so in the end, the question was, did he want to have a child?

If he did, he wouldn't put it up for adoption – to go through everything he'd never expected to and then not raise the kid just didn't quite sit right with him.

So he'd raise the child. With Usagi.

Huh. That idea was far more appealing than he thought it'd be.

Ever since he'd decided to stay with Usagi, Misaki had assumed he'd never have children, and been okay with that, since all he really wanted to do was be with Usagi anyway, though he'd never admit that aloud; Usagi had a big enough ego as it was. But now that he had the choice, he had the option, the opportunity... what did he want to do?

Misaki swallowed. He knew the answer, he realized, though he hadn't thought he'd make the choice so fast, and be so sure of it.

He imagined, in his mind's eye, the three of them, him, Usagi, and his child, on a warm summer's day. Usagi was smiling, a rich laughter tumbling out of his mouth and causing a smile to form in Misaki's heart. A loving, happy family, just like Usagi always wanted.

Yes, he was sure of his decision.

He moved his head from Usagi's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "So," he said, his throat dry, "we're going to need to ask Yamamoto-sensei for the number of that obstetrician, huh?"

Usagi just smiled softly and hugged him close, Misaki's forehead against the crook of his neck. "I'll call him tomorrow," Usagi said.

"Okay," he murmured, and shut his eyes and leaned into Usagi's chest, breathing in his scent, and thinking that, somehow, everything was going to be okay.

* * *

**Endnotes:**

**37.3 degrees Centigrade is approximately 99.2 degrees Fahrenheit.**

**The movie Usagi is referencing in the first scene is, of course, _Alien_.**

**Golden Week: A period of holidays in Japan from April 29 to May 5. Essentially, Misaki shouldn't be experiencing such extreme anxiety from his current job since he has time off, and the source of stress isn't there.**

**37 degrees Centigrade is approximately 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. BBT, or Basal Body Temperature, is the temperature taken as soon as a person wakes up, when the body is at rest. When a woman is ovulating the hormones released cause a small spike in BBT; the same hormones cause the BBT to stay at this spike during a pregnancy. I'm pretty much just using the same symptoms/side effects of pregnancy a woman experiences (because I'm horribly lazy, and don't care enough about the bio!fail) for the mpreg, with additional pain because, well, the cismale body isn't made for that. (Misaki should probably be in even worse pain then he's in, but just assume that endorphins and/or large muscle fibers are weakening the pain.)**

**Norway: Well, why not? My brain just kinda decided that the disease started in Norway, and I saw no reason to change that. Plus, no one ever mentions Norway.**

**_Itadakimasu: _From what I understand, it literally means "I will (humbly?) receive" and is said before a meal. I've seen this translated as "Let's eat!" or "Time to eat!" but I've seen it left as is and the meaning explained enough that I figured I could use the original without going into fangirl Japanese territory (admittedly, most of the time I've seen it not translated is in fan-translations, which have a tendency to use more transliterated Japanese than the official translations, but I've seen it used in at least one official translation, so...). For that matter, I'm not sure about the correct use of honorifics, but did the best I could, based on what info I could find on how they're used.**

**Hopefully I didn't make Misaki make a decision too fast... the problems that he had with the whole thing at first will come up later, I swear. Anyway, all reviews are welcomed and much loved.**


	3. Chapter 2, Part 1: Romantica

**Most recent revision: more detail added, fixed some grammar errors, rewrote and reworded some things**

**Warning: Smut in this chapter (wake up!sex, nothing worse than in the manga in terms of consent - sex started without permission, etc, so stuff that would be wrong in real life, but is treated differently here); if you want to avoid that, skip the second scene.**

**This chapter spans two parts (mobile dropdown numbers 3 and 4). The next Romantica chapter is chapter five, which on the dropdown menu starts at 8. The ones in-between are Egoist.**

**Original Notes ****(revised slightly)****: So, I tried to write smut, and the second scene is the result. It's pretty light; I'm probably most worried about this scene, since smut isn't exactly my writing expertise (hopefully I didn't fail). Other than that, due to a review, I will be splitting chapters into smaller portions, to make things easier to read. Some stuff mentioned in this chapter (there's a scene with Toudou) might be a bit confusing if you're not up-to-date with the latest stuff ****(or are familiar with the anime only)****, but if anything is confusing, tell me. I don't think it's spoilery? Anyway, this chapter is Romantica focused again, but the next chapter will be Egoist, and the one after that. Title for this chapter taken from the song of the same name by Better than Ezra. Any other notes at the end of chapter.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Speeding Up to Slow Down

It was the witching hour when Akihiko awoke. He'd always had a strange affinity for midnight – besides the general atmosphere associated with it, the kind that Poe and Henry James had woven into their tales, he himself had been born at exactly 12 am, or 0 hours 0 minutes 0 seconds, a fact that had amused him when he was younger and filled with teen angst. As it was, though, he wasn't happy with the time right now, because it meant he'd had less than four hours of sleep; his eyes felt heavy with sleepsand. He closed them, going back to nuzzling his head in the intercept of Misaki's neck and shoulder.

Time was passing, he knew, but all that happened was he kept hearing the sound of Misaki's even breathing. He opened his eyes again; it was only ten minutes past midnight. _Damn_.

Normally, when he couldn't get back to sleep it was because a manuscript was overdue and he'd yet to finish. That wasn't the case now – his next manuscript wasn't due for a week, at least, and he'd already made good progress on it, to the point that even he'd been surprised when he checked the due date and then looked at just how much he'd written. No, it wasn't that, but he felt the same tension in his shoulders and neck and legs that usually accompanied it, so he tried to gently slide his hands away from underneath Misaki so he could get a cigarette.

It was only when Misaki whimpered in his sleep that he paused, his heart beating rapidly as he realized he couldn't smoke near Misaki, and wouldn't be able to for quite a while.

Misaki would probably want him to quit – nothing new, really, but he'd be all the more intent on getting him to now. Even once... eight or nine months or so from now, Misaki would probably be very unhappy if he dared to smoke inside the apartment. He could cut back, he supposed; he already had since Misaki had come to live with him, less out of desire to than from a lessened need for them, but he still smoked an average of a pack a day, depending upon just how much time he was able to spend with Misaki, and exactly what they did. Cutting back would certainly make him feel less guilty every time he took a lung capacity test and Yamamoto-sensei gave him that silently disapproving look.

He could quit altogether – it would be the right thing to do, really, and would make Misaki incredibly happy – but he knew he didn't have it in him to quit cold turkey. He could buy some of those patches or gum when the stores opened.

Whatever he did, he knew the only thing he could do right now to stop the craving arising in his bones was to smoke.

Akihiko slipped his arms away from Misaki, and tried to ignore the way the cold swept in as he moved away from his source of heat. He hadn't bothered to change what he'd been wearing earlier today – yesterday – which meant he was still wearing his suit; he grabbed a lighter and a pack of cigs, found a pair of slippers to cover his feet, and made his way onto the private rooftop deck and into the cool night air.

It was chiller than he'd expected, but not enough to make him go inside for a jacket. He lit up, then breathed it in, leaning against a wall. The smoke forming from his exhale stayed in the air for a few moments, then dissipated, leaving him with a clear view of Tokyo's sparkling lights.

He'd started smoking when he was nearly fourteen, because it had annoyed his father and was easy enough to do; money often had more power than morals did, something he'd already known at that age, and just had been reinforced when he was able to buy alcohol and cigarettes without the blink of an eye. Back then he'd figured he'd never have a reason to even cut back on his two pack a day habit. Quitting was almost like betraying his younger self, that bitter and angry teen who'd rebelled against his parents at every opportunity, trying to cover up the loneliness and sadness heavy in his heart. Yet as a thirteen year old, he'd never begun to even think of himself in this position...

He snorted. He didn't think _anyone_ would have thought of himself being in the exact position he was in now, but he'd never imagined anything even _close_ to this. But now...

Akihiko didn't like kids. They were far too whiny and messy and impulsive, demanding attention and expecting you to put up with everything they said, no matter how uninteresting or strange or inane. Worst of all, they were, especially at the younger ages, dependent on others to take care of their needs, and if that person messed up at all, they'd screwed the kid over for however deep the mistake had cut into the child's psyche.

Yet as much as he disliked kids, he loved Misaki so much more. The last thing he wanted was for Misaki to leave him, and pressuring him into either decision about – _this_ – could hurt him. Misaki was never one to make a decision lightly, and if Akihiko tried to influence his decision in any way Misaki could always be pondering just what would have happened if he hadn't. If Misaki decided the path not taken would've been better, he could direct that blame on to Akihiko, even subconsciously. As it was, remaining neutral was the best thing he could do for Misaki, if only so he could make the decision on his own, at his own pace (well, sort of), and without external pressure.

And he'd made his choice...

It would be okay. He knew it would be, because it _had_ to be. It would be different this time, because Misaki was having the kid, because deep down, he knew whatever child Misaki bore would probably weasel his or her way into Akihiko's heart just as Misaki had.

But that was the future. And right now there was him and Misaki, the same as it had been for four years. He would take care of and love Misaki as he always did, only treat him as a bit more fragile, in need of more things than usual. That was all he had to do, for now. He could do that.

Akihiko had smoked through three cigarettes already, which he told himself would be enough for now; as it was, he probably smelled of tobacco. Misaki wouldn't be happy.

He sighed again; hopefully stripping down to his boxers would help lessen the smell. He'd begun sleeping in just his underwear when Misaki had started to sleep in his bed more often; he'd claimed he had simply become unable to sleep in pajamas, and while Misaki had looked at him incredulously, he'd eventually stopped complaining about it. In truth, he simply wanted to get as close to Misaki as possible, in every sense of the word; sleeping with that much less of a cloth barrier between them, even without sexual activity, bought him that much closer to his goal, that much closer to such complete bliss.

When he'd made his way back to the bedroom, having not bothered cleaning up the ashes on the patio floor and from where he'd stubbed out his cigarette on the outside wall – though he'd at least thrown out what had been left of the cigarettes - he found Misaki had thrown off the sheets and was clutching a pillow in his arm protectively. Misaki still had on his jeans and belt, which Akihiko decided must be terribly uncomfortable; once he himself had stripped down, he carefully undid Misaki's belt buckle. Misaki gave a mild grunt, but otherwise he seemed dead to the world. Akihiko gently lifted up Misaki's hips, pulling off his jeans as he did so. Akihiko smirked upon seeing that some of Misaki's blood had rushed south at his actions; his lover was definitely asleep, so his very physical reaction was rather... automatic, or subconscious. Interesting.

Akihiko wrestled with his libido for a moment before deciding, based on the sheer depth of the circles under his lover's eyes, to let him sleep. Besides, he reflected as he gently removed the pillow in Misaki's hold and replaced it with himself, he could always attack Misaki in the morning. After all, he thought with a smirk as his eyes fluttered closed, if he was going to cut back on - and eventually quit - smoking, he'd need something to occupy his hands and mouth with.

* * *

Akihiko awoke to the sight of the contented sleeping face of his lover, their bodies wrapped securely in each others' arms.

"Misaki," he whispered, but his beloved didn't stir. Akihiko smiled, untangling his arms from his lover's sleeping form and letting his fingers trace the side of Misaki's face. Misaki shifted a bit, but he still did not awaken. Akihiko unbuttoned Misaki's shirt, opening it up; his lover's body shivered at the sudden air against bare skin, but Misaki still slept. Akihiko allowed his finger to continue to trace his lover's outline, moving down his side and lovingly gliding along the contour of hipbone that he felt through Misaki's boxers. He listened to his lover's even breathing and snuggled his face against his neck, breathing in his smell, tinged with the familiar soap he used that smelled of citrus, though what fruit it was supposed to pass for Akihiko had no clue.

"Misaki," he muttered again, but he sensed no response. Time to take some more extreme action, then.

He pressed his lips against Misaki's, sliding his tongue against them. Misaki opened his eyes sleepily, and Akihiko lifted his head back to look at his lover's reddening face.

"Usagi-san, what -"

He interrupted his lover's words, slipping his tongue into Misaki's mouth. Misaki let out a moan against him.

"Good morning," Akihiko said, releasing his lover's lips.

"What are you doing, Usagi-san?" he said before Akihiko kissed him again.

"Isn't is obvious?" he said a moment later. "Really, I think you would have been able to recognize it by now."

Misaki blinked slowly, his eyes still wary with sleep. Then his eyes went wide before he narrowed his eyebrows. "Usagi-san, what did you did do with my jeans?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"I removed them last night," Akihiko explained before he licked along a vein in Misaki's neck.

"But - Usagi-san - how dare you -" Misaki's speech came out between pants as Akihiko worked on a very sensitive spot on his earlobe, biting and licking and kissing it.

"I was worried they weren't exactly the most comfortable attire to be sleeping in," he said right next to Misaki's ear, smirking as he watched his lover tremble at the sound of his voice. "So I carefully took them off you before I went back to sleep."

Misaki's anger dissipated. "Really?" he said, and Akihiko moved his head back to look at him; his green eyes were wide and adoring, a blush painted on his cheeks.

"Yes," he said, looking directly into Misaki's eyes, his hands running down his lover's arms; he lifted the right arm and dragged his tongue along a vein on the smooth underside, and was rewarded with a sudden intake of breath. "And do you know what happened?"

Misaki's brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

Akihiko shifted his body and let his tongue trace Misaki's collarbone before he answered; Misaki's body gave a lovely shiver. "You responded," he said, then resumed his actions, a groan coming from his lover's mouth as he licked the inlet of bone at the bottom of his neck, then kissed it softly. "Or rather, a certain part of your anatomy responded."

He heard a choking sound and looked up from his task of licking and leaving love marks on Misaki's chest. His lover's face was completely red. "I – what?"

"Your body knows me," he murmured, giving short kisses to Misaki's neck and shoulders. "Or rather, your body anticipates my touch."

"That's not true - oh!" Misaki's speech was quickly becoming a serious of gasps and groans as Akihiko paid special attention to his lover's nipples, laving them with his tongue.

Akihiko paused for a moment to look at his lover, panting and chest heaving, his face flush. "Au contraire, Misaki, your body finds the simple task of me unbuttoning your belt and taking off your jeans to be very arousing."

Misaki's face got redder somehow; Akihiko gently pressed his hand on one of his cheeks and felt the heat under his palm as Misaki shivered at his touch.

"I think you've missed my touch, Misaki, just as much as I've missed your body these past few weeks."

Akihiko tugged on a nipple, causing Misaki to gasp. "Usagi-san! _Oh_!"

Misaki's dulcet moans filled Akihiko's ears, making him hard. He lazily licked down the rest of his lover's torso, as if trying to touch every millimeter of Misaki's flesh with his tongue. Oh, how he'd missed this: the taste of his lover's skin, salty from the glistening sweat of his body; the feel of his beloved's muscles moving from his ministrations, skin going taut; the noises that fell from Misaki's lips, the greatest symphony; the smell of him, a mix of citrus and sweat and the spices Misaki always worked with, and Misaki's own unique scent underneath it all; the sight of him, chest heaving and body flush, all due to Akihiko's hands and tongue and lips.

Yet when he reached the abdomen, he paused for a moment, hesitant.

"Usagi-san?" Misaki said, peering at him from where his head rested on the pillows. His eyes were lusty and half-lidded, eyelashes shimmering, and pupils dilated, yet he still managed to look concerned.

Akihiko took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and passed over the abdomen entirely. All he wanted to focus on was the _now_; the beauty of Misaki writhing underneath him and the feel of sweat-slicked skin underneath his fingertips.

When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted with further evidence of just how much Misaki enjoyed what Akihiko was doing to him.

"Well, it seems someone is happy to see me this morning," he remarked, back on an even keel.

"Usagi-san!" Akihiko didn't have to look up to know his lover was blushing.

Still, when he grabbed Misaki's boxers, Misaki lifted his hips up to help in their removal, and Akihiko couldn't help but smirk at that action.

"Eager, are we?" he rumbled, and before Misaki could even start to protest, he slowly slid his tongue along the ridge of one of Misaki's hips while his finger traced the other one, and the only noises Misaki managed to make were not even words. He lapped tantalizing close to his lover's cock, along the folds where the hips curved in and even closer, but not quite there, and as his tongue slipped against his perineum, Misaki sounded like he was holding back screams, though if they were of pleasure or frustration or both Akihiko couldn't tell.

"Usagi-san, plea – " Misaki didn't manage to complete the word, and looking up at Misaki, Akihiko could see his face was completely red now, "uh, I mean –"

"I know what you mean," he said, and took Misaki's cock into his mouth, savoring the familiar taste. It had been far too long.

"Usagi-san!" Misaki managed to cry out, and Akihiko licked him with leisurely, languid strokes. He hummed, prolonging each note, and swallowed slowly; the vibrations were causing noises from Misaki he wasn't sure he'd ever heard before, and damn if they didn't go straight to his cock. Misaki was trying to swallow his moans as he came in Akihiko's mouth. Akihiko swallowed everything and released him.

"Usagi," Misaki whimpered, shaking a bit from his orgasm, and Akihiko smiled at his lover.

"Feels good, doesn't it? Taking it slow," he said as he pulled down his own boxers over his hard cock and completely off his body, then reached for the lube and started to coat his fingers with the smooth substance.

"You never do," Misaki muttered, so Akihiko bestowed him with a closed, lingering kiss. "Usagi..."

"I know," he said, and coated himself with the lube. He gently lifted his lover's legs while moving fingers along the sensitive points there, smiling at every gasp and sob that came from Misaki at those ministrations. His finger slowly circled Misaki's entrance before he pushed it in, causing his lover to cry out as his cock became erect again. He moved the finger slowly, bending it inside him, making sure to hit the point where he knew it felt best. He watched Misaki continue to pant and groan, tears forming in the boy's eyes from the pleasure of it all. Misaki was moving his hips at a steady rhythm now, muscles clenching around Akihiko's finger as he did so. Akihiko let out something between a growl and a groan at seeing his lover like this, so turned on and wanting.

As Akihiko inserted a second finger, he was just as slow, stretching Misaki out with precision. Misaki was looking at him with desperation now, though Akihiko knew his beloved would never admit to it. Deciding to reward him anyway, he quickly added a third finger, causing Misaki to whimper, his eyes begging. Akihiko decided that was enough, neither he nor Misaki could take anymore, so he positioned his cock and thrust himself inside of Misaki, luxuriating in the sensations as he took it all in, letting the morning light soak into them. Misaki's body was quivering as he gripped the sheets, twisting them in his hands as Akihiko continued to slowly move inside of him, the heat and tightness of it all making Akihiko shudder himself, making him want to go faster, harder, but at the same time enjoying it slow, loving the way Misaki trembled with pleasure every time he pushed further into him, the way he moaned at each upstroke.

"F – f – faster," Misaki said, and Akihiko paused in shock – he'd never heard Misaki ask for it to be faster before. Hell, he rarely made any sort of genuine requests at all. As it was, Misaki looked mortified, his head turned to the side, refusing to meet Akihiko's eyes.

"As you wish, my Misaki," he said, and increased his pace, causing his Misaki's back to arch; Akihiko reached behind his lover and traced the column of his spine with his hand, then touched his lover's much neglected cock with his other one; there was a long groan, tinged with sobs, and Akihiko could feel Misaki about to climax.

"Misaki," he growled, voice low and husky. "I love you, my Misaki. I'm never letting you go."

That did it; Misaki came hard, his voice reverberating throughout the room. Akihiko grunted as Misaki's clenching muscles brought him to his own shuddering climax.

In the afterglow, Misaki still shaking slightly, Akihiko held his lover in his arms, the pleasure still gliding through his veins. He was still inside Misaki, not wanting to leave him just yet. "That was far too long to wait to touch you, but at least the results were good."

Misaki's face went rosy again. "Stupid perverted Usagi," was all he said, and Akihiko just smiled in response.

What an excellent way to start the day.


	4. Chapter 2, Part 2: Romantica

_Breakfast, _Misaki thought as he made his way to the kitchen, trying not to think of earlier that morning before a blush became permanently burned on his cheeks, _must make breakfast._ He opened the fridge to look for something to make. _What do I want?_ Some small, juicy red fruit... not raspberries... no, he wanted-

He slammed his head against the kitchen counter in frustration. "Misaki, are you all right?" The sound of Usagi's voice came from the direction of the stairwell.

"I'm having food cravings," he admitted after a moment. _I can't believe I just said that._

"What do you want, then? I can get it for you," Usagi said. Misaki could feel his own blush. Damn.

"Misaki...?"

"Strawberries," he choked out. "And cherries."

"I know where to order some online," Usagi said, sounding completely unfazed. "I'll go do that."

Misaki's head was filled with the memories of the strawberry and cherry hell he'd been sentenced to the first year he'd lived with Usagi, but, to his horror, he realized that right now that seemed an oddly appealing situation.

That's it, he was now officially losing his mind.

"Only now?" he heard Usagi ask, and realized he had said the last bit out loud. He raised his head from the counter to glare at Usagi, but found the man was looking over one of the pamphlets the doctor had given them the day before. His face did not betray any emotion, much to Misaki's annoyance.

"Anything interesting?" he asked as conversationally as he could; he wasn't exactly looking forward to looking at one of those things.

"How's the nausea been?" Akihiko asked, still not looking at him, his face remaining stony.

Misaki averted his eyes and began to pick at a loose thread at the edge of his hoodie. He remembered how shocked Usagi had been when he found out he had been vomiting and not telling him; now his throat felt thick and painful as he thought of it. He cleared it, but the guilt remained. "None this morning - I think the painkillers helped. I took some more of those as soon as I got up. Oh, speaking of pills - I'm going to need more of those pre-natal vitamins soon."

"I'll go later today," Usagi said. "Should I pick up anything else?"

He looked up. "No, we have enough ibuprofen, and I can get anything else I might need," he said. He was surprised at how well Usagi was taking this whole thing - he'd expected him to mope around the house, silver bangs shadowing his eyes, or go into some strange form of denial. He shook off the thoughts and picked up one of the pamphlets himself, opening it up to a random page, only to realize he'd grabbed one of the English ones. He grinned - hey, he could understand some of this! Well, the word "pain" anyway... and a few others...

"Usagi, was does this mean?" he pointed to one word in the English - he understood the word "increased" before it, but not that one. He could check the Japanese one, but it would be good to have a conversation with Usagi that didn't revolve around his condition (which he'd probably be doomed to having from now on); although, this was a pamphlet about his condition, so maybe this wasn't the best way to start -

"This one?" Usagi said, leaning over his shoulder, which inexplicably made him blush. He could smell his usual scent, soap and shampoo and cigarettes - wait, cigarettes? - "Libido?"

"Yeah, that word," he said, and tried to pronounce it himself, only to speak what he was sure was a butchery of the English language. He thought about asking Usagi about the cigarettes - that needed to change, he should mention it - but then he noticed the smirk on the man's face.

"What? What does-_ that _word mean?" Misaki scrambled to get the pamphlets in Japanese, but Usagi just grabbed them all and held them to his chest. "Hey, I might need to know what that means! Give me those!"

Usagi just continued smirking, infuriating him more. "Don't worry about it, Misaki... didn't you notice it mentioned that might start around the fifth month or so...?"

"Still, I'll need to know eventually!" he attempted to grab one of them from Usagi's arms, but the man just walked away.

"Usagi-san!" he whined. Then he tried a different tactic. "You really should quit smoking!"

Usagi stopped in tracks and turned around. "I'm cutting back, and only smoking outside. I can't quit right away."

Misaki felt his shoulders relax as he blinked in surprise. Huh. He hadn't expected that; his lover could be... considerate; well, sometimes. Still, that didn't solve his immediate problem. He frowned, shoulders going tense again. Usagi-san!" he whined again. He sounded like such a child -

"Make breakfast, then I'll give you the pamphlets," Usagi said.

He titled his head from side to side. Well, okay, he could do that...

Thirty minutes later, they were seated at the breakfast table, eating omelets. Misaki wasn't about to admit it, but he'd begun to dislike green peppers recently, and had avoided putting them in his food as of late. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably due to his condition.

That's it, mother nature was conspiring against him. Or maybe the whole world.

Suddenly the phone rang, startling him from his thoughts. "I'll get it," Usagi said, and rose from his seat, leaving the pamphlets lying on the dining room table, unattended. Misaki lunged for one, only to grab one in English. He scowled, and tried again, spotting one near him in Japanese. Before he could open it, however, he heard Usagi say his brother's name.

"Ah, so you came back early from your trip to Kyoto?" Usagi said, looking at Misaki. "Oh, right, you canceled that trip due to Mahiro being sick... I forgot." He paused, then, sounding slightly choked, "No, I don't think he had what Misaki had last March. That's a bit too far apart, isn't it?" Misaki coughed into the remains of his breakfast. Trust Niichan to say something entirely innocent and yet have it unintentionally not be innocent at all. "Here? Later today?" Usagi looked surprised. "I'll have to ask Misaki..." He looked at his plate. He'd have to tell his brother eventually. He looked back at Usagi and nodded. "Yeah, okay, you can visit. See you later, then." Usagi hung up the phone and sat back down at his seat, looking a little shocked and... nervous. Definitely nervous; his hands were shaking slightly and Misaki knew that had nothing to do with his decision to quit cigarettes.

"So, Niichan is coming with Neesan and Mahiro, then? What time?" He grabbed his and Usagi's plates; neither of them would be able to eat, now.

"No, Manami and Mahiro are going to some special event for mothers and children; Takahiro's all alone today, which is why he wanted to visit."

"Ah, I see," he said, trying to control the pitch of his voice, which wanted to go higher for some reason. He began to wash the dishes in the sink, listening for footsteps and readying himself for Usagi's attack, but none came.

"I'll be upstairs, I have work to do. Takahiro should be here in the next couple of hours - come get me when he arrives." He heard Usagi walking away, and he took a calming breath. His brother would be here in a few hours. He could do this. He could tell his brother he was pregnant. No problem.

_Who am I kidding, this is a problem! A major problem! Guys aren't supposed to get pregnant! _He began to scrub the dishes faster and harder; one fell out of his shaking hands and the water splashed his face. Luckily nothing was damaged, but it made him stop what he was doing. He needed to calm down.

He went back to the dining room to look at one of those pamphlets in Japanese. He really needed to read what was in one before he gave it to his brother. He opened it up to the equivalent of the page he'd been looking at in the English version, looking for the corresponding word in Japanese of the English word he'd been mystified by before.

He found it, and suddenly his face felt like it could be a valuable source of alternative energy. "USAGI-SAN!"

Today was not going to be easy.

* * *

"Ah, Takahiro, so good to see you."

Akihiko had just finished the first draft of his manuscript and was going downstairs because he was craving Misaki -who, as it turned out, had not told him Takahiro had arrived.

"Misaki said you were busy, I wouldn't want to interrupt your work -"

"No need to worry," Akihiko said with a flourish of his hand. "I'm at a good pace; I can take a break."

He heard Misaki snort at that statement, but figured it was best to ignore him. He sat down next to his lover on the couch, causing Misaki to fidget.

"I was just telling Misaki how Mahiro climbed onto the kitchen counter the other day. He was able to get into the cabinets - there were bits of cereal everywhere! Manami accidentally crushed some Cheerios under her feet, too. You two are fortunate you'll never have to deal with that."

Misaki began a coughing fit at the last sentence while Akihiko swallowed down the lump forming in this throat, and twiddled his thumbs as he resisted the urge to get a cigarette.

Takahiro must have noticed their awkwardness, because he continued, "Oh, don't get me wrong, I love Mahiro, I wouldn't trade him for anything - but there are definite benefits to not having to worry about that, y'know?"

Misaki squirmed and bit his lip. Akihiko took his hand and squeezed it."Yeah, about that, Niichan..." He took a deep breath and looked his brother straight in the eye. "Well, y'see, I'm kinda... pregnant."

Akihiko was impressed. He'd thought Misaki would beat around the bush more, but he'd managed to say it rather quickly. He squeezed Misaki's hand again; Misaki squeezed his back.

Takahiro just stared at the two of them, dumbfounded; his entire face was slack, eyes wide and jaw open . Well, he could be worse. At least he was still conscious.

"There's some pamphlets on the dining table," Akihiko said in an attempt to be helpful.

"Ah, yes!" Misaki said, jumping up. "Let me get you one, Niichan!"

Akihiko frowned as Misaki let go of his hand. Misaki rushed to the table, grabbed a handful of the pamphlets, and then ran to give them to his brother - and nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Misaki!" Akihiko cried out as he shot towards his boyfriend as he regained balance. He gripped Misaki's shoulders so tightly his knuckles went white, and he could feel himself trembling slightly. If this was how it was going to be for the next eight or so months, he didn't know if he could handle it. "I don't think you should be running around, Misaki. It's dangerous."

"Usagi-san!" Misaki whined, starting to blush. Much to Akihiko's relief, however, Misaki walked the remaining distance to where his brother sat, who was still clearly shocked and unable to speak.

"Here you go, Niichan!" Misaki dropped the pamphlets in his brother's lap, which caused him to blink back to life and look down at what Misaki had given him.

"I see," Takahiro said, laughing nervously as he peered at one of the pamphlets. "Uh, congratulations, then, I guess." He continued laughing, his hands clenching the pamphlet tightly as his knee jerked with nervous energy. Akihiko almost sighed - he had seen something very similar to this yesterday...

Misaki began laughing himself. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, chuckling weakly and scratching the back of his head.

Akihiko wasn't quite sure how to break the awkwardness that had settled into the room. He decided to go for the strategy of changing the topic.

"So, Takahiro, how has your job been?"

Takahiro stared at him bewilderedly. "Uh, just great," he said, then turned to look at Misaki. "Oh, Misaki how has life in the workforce been treating you?" He paused. "Though I guess you'll be taking time off soon, huh?"

Misaki froze before answering. "Ah, yeah, I guess so," he said, his hand lowering to scratch the back of his neck.

"Manami took the full year off that she was allowed to, and I was able to take two months off," Takahiro said. "I guess you could quit if you wanted to, though -"

"Oh no, I like my job!" Misaki said, hands up and palms out as he shook his head, his eyes wide. "I want to be able to continue working, so I'll just take some time off."

"You already figured that out?" Akihiko asked. He hadn't thought much of how time off and employment would work; he was surprised Misaki had already considered it.

"When did you guys find out about this?" Takahiro asked. He sounded a lot calmer about the whole thing, though he was still bouncing a knee and his voice betrayed a tremor.

"Yesterday," Akihiko replied. He twisted his fingers; it was getting to the point where he wanted another cigarette, but he didn't want to mention it while Misaki was there.

"Wow, really?" Takahiro exclaimed. "You two sure have adjusted to this quickly!" There was a nervous laugh.

Misaki shot Akihiko a look; he seemed interested in his reaction.

"Well I guess so," he said, and then shrugged. He figured they hadn't adjusted, really - just taken things in as they came along. Because if they really stopped to think about everything -

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening with a slam was heard. "Usami-sensei! I trust your manuscript is completely edited and ready for printing!"

"Usagi-san!" Misaki scolded him. Akihiko just rolled his eyes.

"Aikawa, it's Golden Week, the printers aren't even open. The manuscript is due next Tuesday," Akihiko called out.

Aikawa walked into the living room and looked at Usagi incredulously. "It's Golden Week?"

"Yes, Aikawa-san; didn't you notice we have off today?" Misaki said, staring at her openly with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but I didn't realize..." Aikawa said. "I'm just so used to Usami-sensei being late with his manuscripts..."

"Wait, does this mean you're actually on time for once?" Misaki asked, face slackened with awe. Akihiko frowned; he should probably be offended by that...

He shrugged. "Even a broken clock is right twice a day."

"Aren't you insulting yourself with that, Usagi-san?" Misaki said, his right eyebrow twitching.

"Well, I guess I should leave, then," Takahiro said abruptly and stood up from the chair, pamphlets in hand. His voice was unusually high, but at least he had managed to stand up without collapsing. "Misaki, Usagi, I'll be inviting you two over soon."

Misaki ran after his brother, much to Akihiko's consternation. "Niichan, wait!" Takahiro stopped suddenly. Misaki looked a bit sheepish. "I uh, was just wondering... well, about mom and dad –- uh, never mind. It's not important." Misaki turned around, his face red and his hands quivering, his breathing heavy; normally, Akihiko loved to see Misaki like that, because it was usually while Misaki was underneath him, but not this time; something was bothering him. Misaki started to slowly walk away from his brother.

Luckily, Takahiro had a rare moment of insight. He smiled. "Misaki, of course they would be okay with everything that's happened. All they'd ever want is for you to be happy."

Misaki stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Really?" Misaki asked. He looked so relieved. Akihiko didn't say anything; the cynical part of his brain was relying its doubts to that statement in his head, pointing out that Takahiro was far too optimistic, but he wasn't about to say a thing that would bother Misaki.

"Yeah. You'll understand when you're a parent," he said, and brightened. "Which you will be, soon!" Ah, there was that higher pitch again.

"Yeah..." Misaki said, looking as though he was gazing at something far away that only he could see. Akihiko, meanwhile, was biting his the underside of his lip to keep himself from remarking that if Takahiro had ever had the... _pleasure_ of meeting any Usami other than Akihiko, he wouldn't have said that first statement - at least, not without a lot of qualifiers.

"See you soon, then!" Takahiro took his leave. Akihiko walked over to Misaki and put his arms around him. Misaki didn't say anything, just leaned into his touch.

"Excuse me, Sensei, what is this about Misaki being a parent soon?" Aikawa demanded, her eyes alight. By the look of it she'd entered ultra-fangirl mode.

"Hey, I'll be a parent, too," Akihiko pointed out, and Aikawa responded with a squeal so high-pitched he was amazed all the glass in the house didn't break. She looked about ready to become a puddle of fangirlish glee, oozing on the floor.

"There are pamphlets on the dining table," Misaki added, sounding a bit weary. Aikawa somehow managed to get over to the table and picked one up.

"Male pregnancy?" she exclaimed. She looked as if she'd just discovered bread could be brought sliced. "Sensei! This could be just the thing your BLs need!"

"WHAT?" Misaki shouted, apparently not seeing that coming from a kilometer away.

"Oh, and it's contagious!" Aikawa said, examining the brochure. "You can make everyone pregnant now!"

"Wait, it's contagious?" Misaki said.

"Well, it is a disease," Akihiko said. "Aikawa - I don't know about male pregnancy, but I'll work babies into my next BL if you give that pamphlet to Isaka. And one to his secretary, too." Ah, schadenfreude tasted so delicious (though not as good as Misaki).

Aikawa sparkled. It was rather disturbing. "Of course, Sensei!" She agreed, and, like a whirlwind, disappeared out the door.

"Why would you give one of those to Isaka?" Misaki asked Akihiko, eying him as though he'd lost his mind. So, nothing new.

"I dunno," he said, "hasn't Isaka been sick lately?"

"I don't even want to know," Misaki said. He sighed. "Anyway, Toudou texted me just before Niichan came in; he came back from his trip to Hokkaido early because his uncle got food poisoning. He asked me to come visit him, and I said I would as soon as Niichan left, so..."

"But then what will I occupy myself with while your gone?" Akihiko asked, tightening his hold around Misaki. He began to flail in response.

"How about your work?" Misaki suggested, twisting himself out of Akihiko's grip.

"But it's _work_," he replied. Misaki glared at him as he put on his shoes. "Alright, you can go. Just be careful out there."

Misaki rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, see you later." Then he left.

Akihiko smiled to himself. He knew what he could do while Misaki was gone.

* * *

Toudou lived in the kind of place Misaki would have had if he hadn't moved in with Usagi, meaning it was small and cramped but more than large enough for one ex-college student, now police officer in training. The place was surprisingly well-kept for a twenty-something male living on his own, and Misaki appreciated the lack of mess; he spent enough time cleaning up after Usagi as it was. Toudou was making tea in the kitchen. The coffee table had the latest volume of _The*Kan_ on it, which Misaki would be itching to read had he not read it twice already before it was even published, and half a dozen times after it was.

"So, other than your uncle getting food poisoning, how was Hokkaido?" Misaki asked as he saw Toudou come in with some tea. Toudou put the tray on the coffee table, then sat down in the chair opposite Misaki. It struck Misaki how they seemed like two old ladies, discussing their lives over tea. He shook off the feeling.

"Well, my father almost got pick-pocketed, my cousin spent two hours alone in a park because she forgot where we were supposed to meet up, and my aunt broke the heel of her favorite pair of shoes, but other than that it was alright." Toudou took a sip from some tea. "So, how has your Golden Week been?"

Misaki paused, considering how to tell Toudou he was pregnant without breaking his brain. It was going to be a difficult task. "Well, I went to the doctor yesterday -"

"Oh, because of how much you've been sleeping?" Toudou said.

Misaki jerked his head back, startled. "You noticed?"

"Yeah, every time I called you had just woken up or would start to yawn. I was worried I was boring you, actually."

"Uh, no..." Misaki said, grimacing and shifting guiltily. "Anyway, I went because of the fatigue, but also because of the stomach pain. And the nausea. And the vomiting..."

"Sounds like my uncle at the end of our trip," Toudou remarked.

"Yeah, except my symptoms had been going on for like, a month and a half," Misaki said, and Toudou shot him an incredulous look.

"And you didn't go to the doctor until yesterday?"

"Actually, it was only because Usagi - er, Usami-sensei made me," Misaki admitted, sheepish. "Anyway, that's not the important part." _It's probably best to get the pamphlet_, Misaki thought, and tried not to reflect on how sad it was he was required to carry around a few pieces of paperin case he needed to explain his condition to people. He reached into his jeans' pocket and smoothed out the crumbled up pamphlet and handed it over to Toudou. "That is."

Toudou stared at the pamphlet for several minutes before looking up at Misaki. "This is a joke, right?"

"I wish it was," Misaki mumbled. Toudou just stared at him.

"Holy crap, you're really pregnant?" Misaki nodded. "Wow... just... wow."

"You're telling me."

"I guess Usami-sensei is the father, then?"

"Of course," Misaki said.

There was a pregnant pause as Misaki waited for his friend to something else. He looked strangely thoughtful.

"You know what this means, though?" Toudou said, his eyes bright and shining with an odd sort of light. He looked disturbingly like Aikawa had earlier. "You can have a _The*Kan _themed nursery!"

"I didn't think of that!" Misaki said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "But, uh, I don't think I could put chef knives in a nursery."

"True," Toudou said, pouting. Then he smiled again. "But the two of you will be parents! That's so cool!"

Misaki could feel himself pale and his stomach flip. He steeled himself against what seemed to be a light bout of nausea. "Yeah, Usagi – Usami-sensei and I will be."

Toudou just nodded. "Anyway. On a lighter note: did you read the extra chapter of _The*Kan_?"

He nodded, relieved at the change of subject, and they fell into easy conversation, Misaki doing his best to forget about the nervousness from before.

* * *

Akihiko got up from his computer chair, working out the crick in his neck that had begun to form. He needed a break; the kanji on the screen were beginning to blur together and become new words, making the denouement read like a review of a restaurant. He opened the door of his office, intending to get coffee or tea or something with caffeine. He paused at the top of the stairs; Misaki had come home, and he hadn't even noticed. His lover was standing in the living room, staring open-mouthed at what Akihiko had bought earlier that day.

"Misaki," Akihiko said, "I didn't hear you come in."

Misaki looked up at him, jaw snapping closed and his gaze hardening into a glare as he stood between a stack of crates filled with ripe strawberries and another with cherries.

"Usagi-san... the strawberries... and the cherries..."

"Did I get enough of them? I was worried I didn't - I could always order more..." Akihiko said, starting down the stairs. Misaki didn't say anything, just continued to stare at him, his eyebrow twitching like it was on an amphetamine. Akihiko hoped he'd ordered enough - the twenty-three kilos of each fruit he'd put on rush delivery seemed to be so few, but he thought Misaki might get angry at him if he went overboard. "I can get some from the grocery, if you want..."

Misaki blanched. "No, no, that's okay, we have... more than enough."

Akihiko just nodded and walked up to Misaki, wrapping his arms around him in a welcoming hug and holding him close. Misaki didn't struggle. It was a bit disturbing how compliant Misaki was being lately; not that Akihiko didn't like it, but it was a bit distressing considering how he normally acted.

"Usagi-san," Misaki said, mumbling against Akihiko's shirt, "we're going to have to have a nursery, aren't we?"

Akihiko swallowed. "Yeah, we are." He thought for a moment, then smiled. "We can use your old room for it." Now if only he could convince Misaki to forgo pajamas...

Misaki leaned back and looked up at him, shooting him a glare. "What do you mean, my old room?"

Akihiko cocked an eyebrow. "Do you really expect to have a need for a separate bedroom anymore?"

Misaki blushed, and leaned against Akihiko's shirt again. "No, I guess not. And it does make sense."

Akihiko just hummed his agreement. Misaki sighed, and stepped away from his lover's embrace. He looked up at him again. "We're really going to be parents aren't we?"

Akihiko thought his heart shouldn't speed up so much as that question, and his hands shouldn't be so clammy. Certainly he'd had that thought in the last twenty-four hours? (Yes, he had, but it hadn't quite hit him then.) "Yes, we are," he said, keeping his face as stoic as he could. Misaki just looked away, and nodded his head.

"Yeah," he muttered, and closed his eyes, taking what appeared to be a calming breath.

"Misaki, what's wrong?"

Misaki paused, then looked at Akihiko, a strained smile on his face.

"Nothing!" Misaki said with a cheerfulness that seemed forced. "I think I'm gonna take a shower before dinner, I feel all sweaty..." He started walking towards the stairs. Akihiko followed him, reached out and grabbed his arm to stall him.

"Misaki," he said, and Misaki looked up at him, eyes wide. Why did he look so afraid? "Misaki, tell me."

"It's nothing!" Misaki shouted, which he really didn't need to, Akihiko was right next to him. "Nothing at all!"

"Did Toudou say anything?" Akihiko asked, ignoring Misaki's protests. There was clearly something wrong, otherwise-

"No!" Misaki said, and he looked insulted by the suggestion. "It has nothing to do with him!"

"Ah, so there is something, then."

"What? No! I didn't say!"

Akihiko pushed Misaki against the wall, pining his arms above his head. Misaki squeezed his eyes shut. "Misaki," he breathed into his lover's right ear, causing him to shudder and open his eyes. Akihiko looked at Misaki, and he could feel his emotions beginning to show on his face; he was sure he looked pathetic, but it seemed to weaken Misaki's resolve. "Please."

Misaki averted his gaze. "It's nothing," he said, though he sounded choked up. "I don't want to be -"

He stopped suddenly, but Akihiko had already filled in the sentence in his head. "You're not being a burden," he said. He needed to stop thinking that; it was hurting both of them. He released his lover's arms and wrapped his own arms around Misaki again, and once again his lover didn't resist. "Tell me -"

"I'm scared, okay?" Misaki mumbled, so quietly Akihiko had to strain to hear, and he still wasn't meeting his eyes. "I'm absolutely terrified."

There was a pause. "Me too," he admitted, even though he hadn't quite known it till just then. "So let's be scared together."

"Idiot Usagi!" he looked as though he might start to cry (or perhaps commit murder), clenching his fists, his posture tense. "You don't have to deal with a body that's not under your control anymore -"

Ah, this was more familiar territory. "On the contrary, every time I'm near Misaki, my body's barely under my control."

"STUPID USAGI!" Misaki yelled, a blush burning on his cheeks, and he ran upstairs. "I'm taking a shower!" Akihiko just waited. A few seconds later and - "USAGI-SAN, WHY ARE THERE LION HEAD FAUCETS IN THE BATHTUB?"

Akihiko grinned wickedly and started upstairs. Today was going to take an upswing, he knew it. Like it had this morning, when the sun was up. Yep, those specialty faucets he'd had installed as fast as possible when Misaki was gone were definitely going to improve his day.

* * *

Endnotes:

23 kilos = a little over 50 pounds. I try to use metric because both Misaki and Akihiko should be used to it; I'm more used to Imperial, so if anything sounds off, please tell me.


	5. Chapter 3: Egoist

**Revised 2 September, 2012. Minor fixes and an attempt to make Nowaki a bit less… automatically accepting of the situation.**

**Egoist chapters run **_**until**_** what is listed as eight on the dropdown menu (actual chapter number five); it stops before chapter five, that is. **

**Notes: I made some changes, mostly to keep Misaki IC, to the second half of the last chapter. I also realized, while rewatching (for the nth time) the second season in fansubs, that my memory is horribly faulty – Misaki refers to his brother as Niichan and not Niisan (and the official translations of both the manga and anime only use "brother", so that's no help), so I fixed that for the second half. I might fix the first half as well, but I want to look it over again first.) Apologies to those who have me/this story on author/story alert; I do try to upload new content with revisions of old chapters.**

**Anyway, this chapter is Egoist focused; there's a very small Terrorist cameo (their first full chapter should be chapter six, if all goes according to plan). Expect the second half within the next few days; I'm almost done with it and should be editing it soon, I just wanted to get this first half out. As always, reviews are much appreciated and adored; criticism is always welcome, no matter how minuscule or harsh. Chapter title is cribbed from "You Never Know" by the Goo Goo Dolls.**

* * *

Chapter Three: Hit Me Like a Sucker Punch

Kamijou Hiroki was having one very bad day.

First, he had woken up to discover a note from Nowaki saying he had been called in for an extra shift and wouldn't be home till ten. He also learned the toaster was broken after attempting to make toast and watching smoke rise from the appliance; he'd had to stand on a stool to divert the smoke from the smoke detector to stop it from going off. The smoke smelled so acrid he started to tear up, which had never happened before. After taking out the toast, he unplugged the toaster and threw it across the room to get revenge on the cursed thing; it headed towards the bookshelf, damaged one of Akihiko's books, and fell to the floor with a loud crash, spilling excess crumbs it had hidden in it all across the living room rug. He ended up eating the burnt toast with the last of the butter, which was still not enough to hide the horrible flavor that made him want to vomit. Then, he went to work only to discover his alarm clock was somehow an hour slow, and he'd missed his first class of the day. Miyagi had been there, being as obnoxious as always, and since he didn't have the option of killing him, he gave him his best glares, but they did no good.

Around noon, he realized he forget his lunch at home, and went to get lunch from the cafeteria, but everything smelled terrible and made him nauseous — seriously, how could they hire these people? He then went back to his office to discover Miyagi and his brat in a position that he was sure wasn't exactly legal.

"You know, you should at least lock the door when he's here; if I was the dean, you'd be out of a job," he remarked after the kid had left, glaring at him the entire time (which explained why Miyagi was immune to his own glares — if he dealt with those kid's all the time, he must have built up an incredible tolerance). Miyagi blabbered a list of excuses, but he ignored him, going to his next class – only to discover half his students had forgotten they had a paper due today, and the rest were mysteriously absent.

When he finally left Mitsuhashi, he had to lie down from the pain in his abdomen. The doctor had told him it was only constipation, but he was beginning to think that said doctor was incompetent; it had been off and on for over a month now. He'd considered telling Nowaki about it, but didn't want to worry him.

An hour later Akihiko came over, and Hiroki ignored his pain to greet his longtime friend, who had a manuscript ready for his meticulous analysis.

"There's crumbs on the rug," Akihiko observed as he handed over the manuscript.

"I know; just ignore them," he said, putting on his glasses and settling down with the pages. Akihiko had never been a clean person, anyway.

"Can I smoke?" Akihiko asked as Hiroki made a mark on the paper where he found a misplaced comma.

"As long as you don't do it by the smoke detector, and don't get ashes on the floor, I don't care," he replied, turning a page. Only a few moments later, however, the putrid scent wafted into his nostrils and he felt bile rise in his throat in response; he put down the manuscript and ran towards the bathroom, losing what little he'd eaten that day. His throat burned with the acid that had just come up, and he cupped his hands to get water to drink from the bathroom sink to clear out the nasty aftertaste.

"That's strange, you've never reacted that way to my smoking before."

Hiroki nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. He turned around to see Akihiko in the doorway looking... slightly amused, actually._ What the hell?_

"You have any stomach pain, maybe a fever within the last month or so?" Akihiko asked.

Actually, yeah, Hiroki had had a nasty fever not long after Akihiko's brat had had one; Nowaki had felt guilty for bringing whatever virus it was home, but Hiroki had called him an idiot and told him to not apologize for his (amazing, fantastic, unselfish) kindness in helping out his friend, and all had been well after Nowaki screwed him into the bed for a few hours (except for his back, which had radiated with pain for several days).

"What do you know that I don't, Akihiko?" he asked. His long time friend fished through his jacket's pocket and handed over a pamphlet. Hiroki looked at the title, and decided he hated everything in the entire world, _especially _mother nature and doctors (except for Nowaki).

"Where did you get this?" he asked, having some vague hope that his friend had somehow gained skills with computer graphics and was playing a joke on him, however unlikely it was.

"From my doctor; Misaki saw him a few days ago," he replied, and Hiroki almost felt bad for Akihiko; it must have been quite a shock, and Takahashi was probably suffering right now. Still, that didn't mean his friend could smirk at him, the bastard. "Not everyone in the medical community knows about it yet; I wonder if your boyfriend's heard of it?"

He felt like he was going to have a minor heart attack. "Get the hell out," he said, because murder was, sadly, still illegal, and there was nothing he could throw within his reach.

"I'll give you the number for my doctor and his address — he has knowledge of the condition, though he _is_ a bit expensive, but I'll pay — "

Hiroki deflated. Sometimes, Akihiko could be far too kind. "I can afford it, whatever it costs," he told him.

"Do you want me to call for you?" he asked, his face far more serious and kinder.

Hiroki shook his head."No, I'll do it."

Akihiko nodded and somehow procured a pen and small notepad from his jacket. Seriously, what kind of space did the man have in there? "Here you are," he said, handing it over, and Hiroki thanked him and followed him into the living room. Akihiko put on his shoes, and started to head out the door, then turned to look at Hiroki. "Oh, by the way, I expect your edits within the next two days," he said, and then left, leaving Hiroki to throw a book at the door in his wake.

He sighed, looking at the piece of paper and got out his cell to make an appointment. Maybe, just maybe, there really was something else wrong... the day couldn't get any worse, could it? Life wasn't that unfair...

* * *

Nowaki was not having a good day.

First, he'd been called in for an extra shift, and he'd spent half an hour consoling a mother who had just lost her daughter to SIDS. Then he had to deal with a child who had advanced lymphoma and was waiting for a bone marrow transplant that might never happen, and a fellow intern had needed to leave early because his girlfriend was in a car accident. At this point, he just wanted to go home, relax, and not to have to deal with anything medical, life threatening, or in anyway upsetting.

"I'm home," he called out as he entered his apartment, taking off his shoes. The lights were on, so Hiroki was up, but he didn't hear him respond. Now more than a little concerned, he walked quickly to the living room, to discover Hiroki standing by a bookcase, glaring at him, his left eyebrow twitching.

"Hiro-san, what's wrong?" he asked.

"You!" he replied and Nowaki wondered what he could have possibly done, too tired to remember his actions before he'd gone to work. "You... you bastard!" Hiroki proceeded to grab books from the shelf and throw them at him, a constant barrage, and he had to use his arms to block.

"Hiro-san! Stop! This is too much!" he cried out as Hiroki lobbed a hardcover Japanese-to-English dictionary at him. He had to get him to stop; Hiroki was attempting to grab the entire bookshelf and throw it. Whatever the heck he had done, it was apparently the worst thing ever, worse than that time he'd spilled water all over one of Hiroki's books. That gave him an idea... "Wait, if you keep throwing the books, they might get damaged!"

That seemed to work. Hiroki blinked, releasing the bookshelf he'd managed to get a good centimeter or two off the floor. "That _is_ true... people heal, books don't."

Well, whatever worked. "Yes, Hiro-san, now why don't you tell me — "

Hiroki's face suddenly took on a very strong pallor.

"Hiro-san?" Nowaki said, feeling his heart rate increase and his body start to perspire. What could possibly have — ?

"I went to the doctor today," he said, slowly.

Diseases and conditions flashed through Nowaki's mind, each getting progressively worse — diabetes, various types of cancer, AIDS, Ebola — and he remembered the boy earlier today waiting for a bone marrow transplant and the intern trying not to panic over his girlfriend. He swallowed down what felt like his heart. "And?" he asked, though that word was one of the hardest he'd ever had to say.

"I'm pregnant," he said, and Nowaki had to stop himself from screaming.

"Don't make jokes, Hiro-san! Your health is very important!"

"I'm not," he said, and Nowaki's jaw dropped open as he realized that, somehow, Hiroki was indeed completely serious. Hiroki handed him a pamphlet and a piece of paper which he recognized as being a copy of an article from a small, not very well known medical journal that published about rare, usually newly discovered, diseases. "That's... the information they have about... it. The pamphlet is for the public's use; I asked for an article since I figured you'd understand the medical jargon."

He looked the article over; yes, he understood it, and it all made a scary amount of sense. He could feel his stomach twist as he turned his gaze towards Hiroki. "Why haven't I heard of this until now?" he asked. He was fairly certain he had a subscription to this journal...

Hiroki scowled. "Politics," he said with some distaste, his nose scrunched up like he was smelling formaldehyde or something equally odorous. "That article you have there was pulled before the issue went to print. They're trying to keep it under wraps — I'm amazed they're letting pregnant men keep their babies at all. It's ridiculous, because they can't keep this hidden forever — their kids are going to need to go to school —" Hiroki's face's lost its contemptuous look as he paled again.

"Hiro-san," he said, and wrapped his arms around his love; he knew he had to be the strong one here, at taking in this unexpected development.

For a few moments, there was a heavy silence."I don't want to get rid of it," Hiroki mumbled. "I thought about it, but I realized I couldn't, especially because you love children so —"

"You shouldn't make the decision because of me!" he cried out. "Yes, I love children, but I love you more than anything, Hiro-san! I just want you to be happy!"

Hiroki rolled his eyes. "I didn't say I don't want it." He sighed as Nowaki squeezed him tighter. "It's just... unsettling, how this was so... _unexpected,_ that's all."

"Lots of good things in life are unexpected, though," Nowaki remarked. He looked at his lover. "Like meeting you!"

"Idiot," he muttered, squirming out of his embrace.

"You don't agree?"

Hiroki blushed and turned away. _So cute._

Nowaki smiled and kissed the top of Hiroki's head; he could smell the shampoo Hiroki used, a clean peachy scent.

"I'm going to have to take time off," he said after a few moments. "I'm sure my students will be happy."

"Don't say that, Hiro-san!" he said. "You're a great teacher. I'm sure they'll miss you very much."

Hiroki snorted. "Half of one of my classes was absent today. The other half forgot they had a paper due."

He just held him tighter. "I'm sure you're exaggerating, Hiro-san." Hiroki didn't say anything, but he did seem to lean into his hold. Nowaki smiled. "Everything's going to be just fine, Hiro-san."

Hiroki just hummed slightly. Nowaki looked down to see he had closed his eyes and was lying his head on Nowaki's shoulder. Nowaki smiled to himself. Hiroki was always so adorable! He hoped their child would inherit his cuteness.

His stomach felt as though it had bottomed out at that thought, but he ignored it; sure, the situation was strange and… _overwhelming_, but he had to focus on the bright side of things.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the happier things, like an adorable child; he gazed about the room. Suddenly, he stopped his gaze; he'd noticed something. Turning his head (to Hiroki's murmurs of disapproval) he got a better look at the living room rug.

Now, why were there crumbs all over the floor?


	6. Chapter 4, Part 1: Egoist

**I did some research for this chapter, but if anything I wrote is incorrect/sounds off, please tell me.**

**This chapter will be in two parts. Egoist this chapter; Romantica next chapter, and then (finally!) Terrorist starts. Next Egoist chapter is chapter 8 (13 on the dropdown menu). **

**Smut in this chapter (rimming, anal). It's what most of the last scene is, actually, so read at your own discretion. **

**Also, as someone who gets embarrassment squicked, I will say this whole chapter is probably the height I get of writing someone being embarrassed. Especially the last part... but I'm saying too much.**

**Chapter title this time is from a song title off the Treasure Planet soundtrack. Credit for this one is a bit confusing; John Newton Howard wrote the score for the movie, but this song is one of the ones by John Rzeznik. On the soundtrack, the song is sung by BBMak. (And I'm not even sure why I picked the song...)**

* * *

Chapter 4: Always Know Where You Are

The train was mostly silent as it sped along the tracks, but there was just enough movement and noise for Hiroki to be annoyed. Everything seemed to be bothering him lately, which he guessed was a side effect of his condition. Though, on the other hand, he'd really always been easily annoyed, it had just become worse recently. His "maternal" leave was to officially start in September, at the start of next semester, but it might have as well started at the same time that summer break did, in late July. He wasn't showing yet, which was good, because if he was, he would have to explain things to Miyagi, and that bastard would constantly mock him until he left. Besides, he was still annoyed at Miyagi for taking a whole week off last year, near the end of classes when the students got rowdy; sure, it had been his birthday, but that didn't mean he was excused, especially because Hiroki was certain he'd told those students of his to be annoying as hell to him, putting gum in his chair and writing obscene messages on the blackboard. He sighed, and shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the slight jostling of the train. He almost wished his parents lived closer, but then thought better of it.

"Hiro-san?" He turned to look at Nowaki. "Your dad's a lawyer, right?"

"He's retired now, but he was one, yeah."

"So, when I meet him, should I call him Kamijou-sensei?"

Hiroki blinked; it had never quite hit him before that he and his father could both be called the same thing. "I guess so. Dad's never really been very strict about the honorifics — far more people call him by his first name only than they do Mom. Though she grew up in an onsen, so I guess that isn't surprising."

Nowaki gave him a strange look.

"You mother grew up in an onsen?"

"I never mentioned that? Yeah, she grew up in her parent's onsen in Kyoto. She was going to take it over, but then she married my father, moved to Tokyo, and my Aunt Kimiko took over instead."

Nowaki nodded. "So, how many aunts and uncles do you have?"

Hiroki blinked. He couldn't believe he never mentioned this before. "Kimiko's the only one living, my dad's brother Hideki died in a boating accident when I was fourteen, along with my paternal grandparents." That had been devastating. His father hadn't talked for a week, and his mother had always seemed to be on the verge of tears. He'd spent more time than he ever had before in his secret hideout, losing himself in books and Akihiko's writing. At one point, he'd seriously thought he was going to cry on Akihiko's shoulder. He shook himself. "My mom's parents died in a plane crash not long after my mom got engaged, so I never met them, but everyone says they were incredibly kind." Actually, that was all his mother ever said about her parents. "Oh, and Kimiko has a set of twins, Nanako and Makoto." He had a frightening thought. "Er, you don't think we'll have twins, will we?"

Nowaki smiled at him. "It's unlikely; the HGC level in your bloodwork was too low. The doctor would have done an ultrasound if it wasn't."

"That's good," he said, clearly relieved. "Anyway, Nanako has a daughter, Rina - she's four." He didn't like thinking about her - when Rina was born, Nowaki had been in the states, and Hiroki had attended the party completely miserable and ended up snapping at everyone. He hadn't spoken to his cousins since.

"Well, at least you know about my family already," Nowaki joked, and Hiroki winced. He'd seen the orphanage Nowaki had grown up in, filled with children that adored Nowaki and jumped up to meet him, and met the people who took care of the orphans - really nice, though with heavy wrinkles and obviously harried. There had been a young couple training to take over; the woman of which Nowaki had said he recognized from when was a child, as one of the younger siblings of sorts he'd known for a year, before she'd been adopted out.

Hiroki grabbed Nowaki's hand in an attempt to comfort him. His grip was awkward, though, and the sweat on his palms didn't help.

"At least I'll have a family of my own soon, huh?"

Hiroki felt his cheeks burn up. "You've had one for several years now, idiot," he mumbled, and tried to ignore Nowaki's grin and the way it lit up his face and made his own heart beat faster and his palms get even more sweaty.

Really, they were both far too easy to please.

* * *

Nowaki had seen Hiroki's childhood home once before, on a visit that didn't pan out because Hiroki's parents weren't home at the time. The house itself was huge and traditional, made of tatami floors and old architecture. When Hiroki's mother opened the door, he was unsurprised to see her dressed in an elegant kimono with an elaborate pattern, her grey hair upswept. She gave a deep bow that spoke of her upbringing with a greeting to match.

"How long has it been since you visited us, Hiroki?" she said to her son with a slight glare (he knew where Hiroki got that ability from now), causing him to mumble. Then she looked at Nowaki and brightened considerably. "Kusama-sensei, welcome! I've heard so much about you!" she gushed, and Nowaki blinked. What had Hiroki said about him?

"Just Nowaki's fine, thank you," he said, and she gave him a blinding smile.

"Then please, call me Momoko-san," she told him, and gestured for them to take off their shoes. Hiroki continued his grumbling and his mother continued to chasten him. She then led them into the living space, sliding open the door to reveal a large living area. Sitting on the couch was a elderly gentleman well into his sixties, reading a newspaper. He put down the paper and smiled at Nowaki. Momoko-san introduced him."This is my husband, Kamijou Haruki."

Hiroki's father rose to greet him. "So good to meet you, Nowaki-san," the elderly man said. "You can call me Haruki-san. I'm afraid Hiroki hasn't told us much about you." Nowaki was a bit sidelined by the opposite things Hiroki's parents had said about him; then again, maybe they had a different idea of just how much "much" was.

"Well, he's here now," Hiroki said, sitting down. "So you can ask him whatever you want."

"Anything?" Momoko-san asked, her brown eyes - so like Hiroki's - taking on a certain gleam.

"Before you ask anything, Hiro-san and I have something to say."

Hiroki gave him a look, like do we really have to do this now? Nowaki just gave his best yes, we do look back.

"Mom, dad -"

Hiroki was interrupted by the whistling of a tea kettle.

"Oh, the tea's done!" his mother rose from her chair. "Give me minute, I'll be right back."

Hiroki shifted in his seat. There was an awkward silence filling the air, but no one said anything to break it.

"Ah, here we are! Be careful, it's hot," Momoko-san said as she came from the kitchen carrying a tray that she set on the low coffee table in the room. "Oh, and Hiro-san - my friend Sunako-san gave me a bottle of that sake you like. Would you like some?"

Hiroki coughed lightly, looking slightly embarrassed, and most likely feeling even more awkward. "Uh, no thank you."

"How rare of you to reject alcohol, Hiroki!" His father laughed. "You were even willing to drink wine when you were eight!"

"You gave Hiro-san wine when he was eight?" Nowaki asked, curious. He'd never heard that before.

"Oh yes, just a little bit." His mother giggled. "He loved it! Kept asking for more, begging us with his adorable eyes..."

"Mom!" Hiroki said, jumping up a bit and blushing.

"Oh that's right, you said you had something important to say."

"Yeah," Hiroki said, squirming in his chair. Nowaki resisted the urge to reach out and hold his hand. "Mom, dad - Nowaki and I..." He swallowed, then straightened his posture. "We're... together. As in... partners. Like... lovers." At the last word, Hiroki's voice became incredibly small, barely audible in the house. Nowaki thought Hiroki's parents must not have heard him, because they were sitting there, smiling happily, like he'd just told them the weather outside was sunny. But then-

"We know that already," Hiroki's mother said, and his father nodded solemnly. Hiroki stared at them, his eyes wide and disbelieving. "Well, you've been living together for so many years, and seeing as you're gay - "

"Wait, wait, hold on a minute. How did you know that?" Hiroki asked. He looked utterly shocked, like it never occurred to him his parents might already suspect something.

"Well, considering all those times I came back from grocery shopping and you'd left the door to your room slightly ajar - such an awful habit of yours - "

Hiroki's face went completely pale, and his face gained a horrified look. "Mom," he choked out.

"And then the walls were so thin - and really, the first time I was so surprised, I dropped the groceries and smashed the eggs, but you didn't hear, you were too busy -"

Hiroki didn't say anything, but it appeared as though he was attempting to become one with the seat. His face was pure red now, and any exposed skin looked flushed. Not that that wasn't a fairly typical appearance for Hiroki, but, still...

"So I went out and bought new ones, and when I came home you were downstairs, all alone as though you'd been like that the entire time, and so I decided every time I came back too early I'd just leave and come back later. It seemed the best way to give you some freedom."

Nowaki wasn't sure Hiroki was still listening; he looked petrified, but Momoko-san went on.

"So I just made sure to bring you to the doctor ever year so you could have a STD test done if you wanted, and made sure you had con-"

"MOM!" Hiroki shouted, suddenly. He'd heard enough, apparently. He looked like he wanted to disappear and never be heard of again. Or at least never see his mother again.

But Momoko-san just kept going. "So, really, if that's all you had to say, we're not surprised at all, and happy you were able to tell us."

Haruki-san nodded and Hiroki swallowed, looking at Nowaki. That wasn't all they had to say, he knew.

"That's not everything," Nowaki said, because he worried it might take awhile for Hiroki to recover speech. Hiroki, however, butted in.

"Yeah, well, you see..." he sighed, closing his eyes. "I'm - there's a reason I couldn't drink the wine -"

Momoko-san squealed, cupping her hands to her face. "You're pregnant!"

Nowaki began coughing, while Hiroki just stared at his mother in amazement. "How did you - "

"Sunako-san's son, Shinji, he told her two weeks ago. So she came to me - "

"Wait, why did she come to you?" Hiroki asked.

Momoko-san blinked. "Oh, because I'm the only person she knew with a gay son."

Hiroki looked like he was about to drown, even though there was no water. Nowaki wanted to hold him, but reconsidered; it would be unusually cruel to increase his embarrassment tenfold at this point. "Wait, wait - your friends know -"

"Oh, of course!" Momoko-san continued on, as though her son was not currently staring at her as though she had two heads. "I never said it out loud, just told them about how long you've been living with Nowaki here everytime they bought up their children's weddings or their grandchildren - they seemed to get the hint. A few of them are no longer friends with me, of course, but quite a few didn't mind at all." She smiled at Hiroki. "Besides, everyone already knew about Hideki -"

"Wait, what about Uncle Hideki?"

Momoko-san just smiled. "Why, don't you remember his 'friend', Takumi-san? They lived together from about the time you were one, and he was always with Hideki-san at the family gatherings -"

Hiroki just stared, apparently shocked to learn he had a gay uncle he'd never known he had.

"Poor Takumi-san. After Hideki died, he was so grief stricken. Last I heard he moved to Hawaii and is living with his new lover there." Momoko-san sighed, looking sad for a moment. "Anyway, she told me and explained everything about the condition - gave me one of those pamphlets - so you don't have to." She smiled, her face brightening. "This is such wonderful news! I can't wait to go shopping with Sunako-san for things for our grandchildren!"

Hiroki just sat there, clearly still processing everything he'd heard in the last ten minutes. Nowaki looked to Hiroki's father, who hadn't said anything; he was calmly sipping tea. He looked at Nowaki.

"So, I heard you're an intern," he said. "Any good stories from the E.R.?"


	7. Chapter 4, Part 2: Egoist

Some time after they'd arrived, and after they'd eaten dinner, Hiroki was relieved to see Nowaki finally relaxing in his parents' presence. His mother was looking at him as though she'd found some diamond in the rough, and he could just see his mother telling her friends how her son-in-law was an orphan who saved children's lives (of course she'd call him her son-in-law, that was just what she did). His father was showing his signs of approval: not glaring, raising his voice, or engaging him in a futile argument. Instead, he seemed happy to discuss with him the various cases he'd had involving malpractice suits (and giving him advice on how to stay out of them). All in all, things had gone better than he thought they would - well, except for experiencing one of the most humiliating moments of his life; he'd thought his parents would stop causing him abject humiliation when he got out of his moody, rebellious, and whiny teenager years, but it seemed there were be no refuge from his parent's amazing ability to embarrass him to new heights.

"Hiroki, is that true?" his mother said, suddenly, snapping him back to the current time.

"Is what true?" he asked, worried if he said anything wrong Nowaki would get that sad look of his.

His mother clicked her tongue. "Nowaki-kun here was just telling us about how you still read little Akihiko-kun's unpublished work for him."

Hiroki cocked an eyebrow. "He's not little anymore, mom. Heck, he's about to have a kid of his own."

His mother's eyes shined disturbingly bright. "Really? I should go see him! I haven't seen him since you two left for university! I mean, I have sent him peaches, but he only sends very formal 'thank you' notes..."

For a moment, Hiroki considered dissuading his mother. Then he remembered his friend's smirk when he told Hiroki about male pregnancy. "He's with Takahiro's younger brother. You remember Takahiro, don't you? He had to quit school and start going to work when his parents died to raise his kid brother. That brother of his is Akihiko's partner now."

"Really?" his mother said. Her motherly instincts had never stopped with just him. "He's an orphan, then?"

"Speaking of which," his father said abruptly, "where did you take your last name from, Nowaki-san?"

Hiroki stared at his father. Just what was he getting at?

"I took it from the orphanage I was raised at, actually," Nowaki said.

"Excellent. Then you wouldn't mind passing on the Kamijou name, would you?"

"DAD!" Hiroki cried out, his face feeling as though it was being burnt to a crisp. Even his father had the amazing ability to embarrass him with just one sentence. Nowaki, however, just looked a bit surprised.

"Ah, yes, I guess so," he said. "That wouldn't be a problem."

"Good, because our family really doesn't has anyone else to pass the name on." Hiroki's father looked thoughtful for a moment. "It's rather like how some only daughters pass on their family name, isn't it?"

"DAD!" Hiroki shouted, again. He was convinced his family just had it in for him now; surely, they couldn't be saying what they were without examining what was coming out of their mouths!

Nowaki just smiled at him. "My name doesn't have any family significance, so of course we'll use the name Kamijou. I wouldn't want the name of Hiroki's family to not be passed on."

"Oh dear, you can consider us your family, too," his mother said. "Feel free to call me mom, and Haruki dad. I'm sure Hiroki wouldn't mind."

Nowaki's face brightened. "Really?"

Hiroki just shrugged his shoulders. Like he'd said before, he already considered Nowaki family, and he was pretty sure his mother already thought of him as a son-in-law (probably had for years), so it was no big deal to him. "Why not."

"Oh my, look at the time!" His mother said suddenly. "The train arrived so late today - I need to get ready to go to bed!"

Hiroki looked at the clock. It was getting late.

His father moved to get up from his seat. "I think we should call it a night."

"Hiroki, you and Nowaki-kun can use your old room," his mother said. "You can use the second bathroom, the same one you did as a child, okay?"

"That's fine, mom," he said, making a mental note to slide the door firmly shut this time. Nowaki smiled at him.

"I can't wait to see your old room!"

Hiroki rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay," he said, and led the way.

* * *

Hiroki's childhood room was just as Nowaki had imagined it would be: crammed with full bookshelves, with barely enough room to move around.

"So, that was horribly embarrassing."

Nowaki smiled. "At least we didn't have to explain anything."

Hiroki snorted; obviously, he didn't think that was a good enough payoff for one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.

"So, your parents kept your room the same when you moved out?" Nowaki said, sitting cross-legged on a futon.

Hiroki sat down next to him. "Yeah. Dad kept saying he turned it into a second library, but nothing's changed since I left."

"It kinda is already a second library," he remarked. He wondered if Hiroki had ever gotten rid of a book in his life. "Those awards hanging above the desk - are those all yours?"

"Of course they are," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Who else's would they be?"

Nowaki got up and looked at all the different certificates and ribbons. Swimming, academic awards, calligraphy, judo... He smiled. "Hiro-san, you're amazing," he said, looking at his lover. "You've always been amazing."

Hiroki blushed, looking so very cute (not that he didn't all the time, but the blush made him more so). Nowaki's grin spread wider and he sat down to envelop his beloved in his arms.

"Hiro-san," he breathed, making sure his breath hit the part of the ear where he knew Hiroki was most sensitive.

"Nowaki, not here!" Hiroki said, reading his intentions as if they were written on paper. "My parents are in the next room over! Didn't you hear what my mother said about thin walls?"

"But Hiro-san –" His protest was cut short by the sound of Hiroki's cell.

"I have to answer this," Hiroki said as he flipped open the phone. "Hello? Ah, yes, this is he..." Nowaki watched, irritated as Hiroki had a conversation with someone he couldn't see or hear. His answers were so generalized it was unclear what he was even talking about. Some sort of test?... Was it about work?

"Ah, yes, that is good to know. Thank you. Bye."

As Hiroki closed his phone call, Nowaki found he couldn't stop the glare that was forming on his face.

"What was that?"

Hiroki blinked. "Uh, nothing important."

"Then why did you say it was an important call?"

"No, I said I had to take it, I didn't say it was important."

"Hiro-san!"

Hiroki rolled his eyes and sighed. "The CVS test I had done came back negative on all accountants. That's all."

"You had a CVS test?" he said. "Is there some kind of common birth defect in your family?"

Hiroki hunched his shoulders. "Not really, no."

Nowaki blinked for a moment, then it hit him: Hiroki had gotten the test because of him, because they didn't know anything about his lineage at all. "Oh."

"Look, right before my cousin's daughter Rina was born, her husband's sister gave birth to a child with cystic fibrosis. Everyone was shocked, because no one else in the family had it, and Nanako had to get tests done to see if her kid would have it. The tests came up negative for her, too, but... well... I just wanted to be sure..." Hiroki swallowed and averted his eyes, looking guilty.

Nowaki sighed. CVS tests weren't the safest tests out there, but he understood why Hiroki had chosen to get one; if he didn't it, it would probably haunt his mind the entire pregnancy, giving him unnecessary stress. But...

He and Hiroki were both independent people; they had a tendency to barely consult each other over even really important decisions, which had led to misunderstandings more than once in the past. It wasn't that they were being inconsiderate; it was just that they assumed they knew what the other was feeling and thinking. Well, Nowaki thought they were both like that, anyway. But now...

Hiroki was beginning to look at him now. He looked more than a little terrified. Nowaki closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts before speaking. He looked Hiroki directly in the eyes. "Look, Hiro-san, I'm not upset you made that choice, but I wish you would have consulted me about it. Or at least told me so I could go through the anxiety of waiting with you. We're in this together." He smiled. "No more secrets."

"I guess so," Hiroki mumbled.

"So, on that note," he said, "just how many partners did you have before me?"

Hiroki's face went so red it was looked as all the blood had rushed to it.

"Wh - what? How did you get there from –"

"I said no secrets, remember?" He held Hiroki tighter. "From what your mother said today, it sounds like you had quite a few –"

"Look, it's not important," Hiroki said, pushing himself out of his hold.

"Hiro-san!" He couldn't stop himself from pouting.

Hiroki sighed. "It really isn't important." He kept pouting. Hiroki rolled his eyes. "I was always careful, and got tested multiple times before I ever slept with you, so I'm clean. Other than that, it shouldn't matter."

"But Hiro-san –"

Hiroki put his hand up to his head, messaging it. "Look, you're the only one I've slept with more than a few times, okay?" Hiroki's face went bright red. "You're the only person I've ever a truly romantic relationship with."

Nowaki figured he'd have to do with that - he had a feeling if he found out the exact number, he'd end up having the urge to dismember every person in town. So instead, he embraced him and leaned into his shoulder, biting the most sensitive part of his ear. "And I will be the only one ever, right?"

"Unless my life turns out horribly depressing," Hiroki mumbled. He looked like he wanted to melt into the floor from sheer embarrassment. "I've had enough humiliation for the day, can we just go to sleep?"

"Of course, Hiro-san," he said.

After all, there was always tomorrow morning.

* * *

"Hiro-san, you've been sleeping for hours."

Hiroki kept his eyes closed. "Yeah, well, you're lying right next to me." He felt Nowaki's grip tighten around him, his breath upon his neck causing his nerves to jump pleasantly. He really didn't want to move.

"I am," Nowaki said, and Hiroki shuddered; there was a lusty undercurrent to his voice, and he could feel his body responding to that eagerly.

"My parents," Hiroki murmured, wishing they were somewhere else right now, preferably with heavy walls.

"They left," Nowaki said, and Hiroki shuddered again as he felt his lover's tongue sliding along the back of his neck.

"Really?" he managed, opening one eye and attempting to look over his shoulder at Nowaki, but he was having none of it; he just gave small kisses to the back of his neck, stopping his movement.

"Yes, really," Nowaki said, and licked - most likely deliberately - a very sensitive part of Hiroki's neck, causing him to bite back a moan. "You can be as loud as you want."

"Nowaki..." He gave a light groan. "I need to take off my shirt, damnit."

"Me too," Nowaki mumbled, and Hiroki heard the sounds of him undressing as he took of his shirt. Nowaki grabbed him and started giving light kisses to his spine, tiny points of pressure in just the right spots; it was as though an electric current was flowing through wherever he kissed. Suddenly Nowaki grabbed the waistline of his pants and pulled them down, along with his boxers. Hiroki felt a low moan start in his throat as Nowaki licked just above his tailbone.

"Nowaki," he murmured again as Nowaki gave kisses to the bottom of his spine. Then Nowaki surprised him by draping himself over his back and touching his nipples. He moaned as Nowaki rubbed the nubs to hardness, the light shocks of pleasure making him feel light. As Hiroki stared down at the fresh futon cover, it hit him that he'd never felt such unadorned pleasure in this room before.

_We're in my childhood room. He felt himself shudder with delight at the thought._

"What do you want, Hiro-san?" Nowaki asked, causing what little blood wasn't in his nether regions to rush to his face. Damn brat.

"Nowaki," Hiroki moaned, hoping the idiot would just figure out what he wanted without saying anything. He shifted his ass, trying to call attention to it.

Nowaki placed some more kisses to his back before licking his tailbone. Yes, Hiroki thought as Nowaki went lower, rimming him, his own tongue hitting the roof of his mouth as Nowaki's caused delightful shocks, like light through his veins. He gathered the cover in his hands and gripped it, all coherent thought flying far away as Nowaki hit just the right the spot, his tongue curving to hit slowly, drawing out the pleasure that caused his back to arch.

Hiroki gave a loud groan as Nowaki pulled away. Dammit, he was almost there! Then he felt a probing finger at his entrance and swallowed.

"Nowaki, you don't even need to -"

"As you wish, Hiro-san," he said, and Hiroki heard the sounds of Nowaki taking off the rest of his clothes, then felt something far larger than a finger touch his entrance. Nowaki seemed to hesitate, and the waiting made Hiroki want to scream.

He almost did. "Get on with it!" Nowaki just chuckled and pushed himself forward, filling Hiroki up, whatever pain there was trumped by the relief and the sheer pleasure of having Nowaki inside him, in his room where he never thought he'd feel such completeness, such utter happiness at being one with the only person he ever wanted to be with. It almost made him want to cry.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki moaned as he thrust into him. Hiroki didn't say anything, just cried out as Nowaki repeatably hit that spot inside him that caused his vision to go white and fire to alight in his veins.

When the feeling building in the pit of his stomach and lower finally hit his peak, he came hard, spilling himself all over the futon cover. Nowaki came soon after, and he pulled him next to him, neither of them wanting to clean up the mess on the cover or on their legs.

"I'd rather my mother didn't have to deal with this," he said, when the afterglow had worn off enough.

"Didn't she have to when you were a teenager?" Nowaki asked, his breath tickling Hiroki's hair.

"I'll have you know I learned how to do the laundry quite well," he said, indignant. He sighed. "C'mon, let's get up before my parents get back."

Nowaki moved slowly, releasing Hiroki from his hold. He procured a clean sheet they'd let fall to the floor the night before and cleaned themselves off the best they could, then stripped the cover from the futon, Hiroki deliberately ignoring the way Nowaki's muscle flexed as he reached over to reach the zipper on the far corner of the futon. Hiroki found two yukata in the dresser, and tried not to think about how his mother had the foresight to put them there. He gave the larger one to Nowaki, and shrugged the smaller one on himself. As he reached the door to exit the room, he noticed it was slightly ajar. He looked behind him; Nowaki had the dirty cover in hand.

"C'mon, I'll show you were the washer and dryer are," he told him, and opened the door.

Really, with the way things had been going for the last twenty-four hours, he should have known his parents would be in the living area, calmly sipping tea. The universe seemed to be bent on humiliating him as much as possible.

He felt Nowaki walk up next to him, but didn't turn to look at him. His mother looked at them.

"Ah, I'll take that laundry, Nowaki-kun," she said, and walked towards them, reaching to grab the cover Nowaki held. Hiroki decided there and then that he would never visit his parents again.

"You never did get out of the habit of leaving the door slightly ajar, do you, Hiroki?" his mother remarked, and he wished he had several books sheerly so he could throw them.

"Ah, that was my fault," Nowaki admitted quietly, causing him to remember some of his old Judo moves that were usually on larger opponents. There were quite a few of them, actually...

"Y'know, I must say, that was the happiest I've ever had you, Hiroki. How nice it is you found Nowaki-kun!"

That was it, he was never seeing his parents again. As for as his future child would know, there were no such thing as grandparents. Hiroki would tell them babies came from cabbage patches, and deny every other story in existence; he'd say he and Nowaki were special, if he had to, as long as he never had to even pretend his parents existed, and this had ever happened to him.

He looked over at Nowaki. While his lover looked at least somewhat mortified, he also looked somewhat happy.

At the moment, Hiroki realized something rather horrifying: he was doomed.

Completely and utterly doomed.

* * *

**Endnotes:**

**HGC: Human chorionic gonadotropin, a hormone produced during pregnancy. High levels of this indicate a pregnancy of more than one child. Edit: so, I found an article later on claiming this is a widely held belief (even among medical professionals) but is not true? Ah, well, whatever. Nowaki can be wrong at least once. ;p**

**Tatami: A traditional type of flooring in Japan; from what I understand, they are mats with a straw covering.**

**If there's anything else I need to explain, please tell me.**

**As always, reviews have a special place in my heart. Criticism welcome.**


	8. Chapter 5, Part 1: Romantica

**Revised October 7, 2010, to correct grammar and spelling errors. Would like to do more revisions when I have more time. We'll see.**

**This part is where some drama starts. I'm actually not sure about it, but I had the idea and thought it'd be an interesting plot point, so I'm going ahead with it. Now that it's not the first time I'm posting this… I got good feedback, so it stays. Yay. I have plans. **

**As I said before: this chapter is Romantica focused, and split into two parts; next chapter we start Terrorist (and the next chapter after that will be Tero as well). Next Romantica chapter will be chapter 9 (15 on the dropdown menu).**

**Chapter title this time taken from the song "One Hand, One Heart" off the West Side Story soundtrack (Bernstein and Sondheim, obviously).**

* * *

Chapter 5: Make of Our Hearts, One Heart

"Usagi-san, I was wondering," Misaki said one evening as Akihiko was reading a magazine, "when are we going to tell your family members about my condition?"

Akihiko looked at him. Misaki was three months along, but it was barely noticeable. He was starting his summer off with wearing loose t-shirts and baggy jeans; Akihiko wondered how long that would last before his condition was no longer hidden. He thought back to Misaki's question.

"Oh, that. We're not telling my family," he said, and went back to what he was reading, even though it was a horrendously boring article. The piece was drier than a piece of burnt sandpaper. Who picked these articles, anyway? Wait, was that his article next to it -

"Uh, Usagi-san, we kinda have to," Misaki said, clearly not done with this useless conversation. Akihiko didn't even bother to look at him.

"No, we don't, and we won't." There, that should do it. But Misaki continued on.

"Yes, we do. They're family, and they have a right to know -"

"No, they don't." He looked up at Misaki, taking off his glasses. His lover just didn't understand. "Misaki, do you know what they'll do? My father will either tell us to give up the child or decide to condition it to take over the company. He won't leave us alone. No, we should keep this a secret from them as long as possible - they'll probably find out eventually, but the later, the better."

Misaki looked away from him, a blush staining his cheeks. Clearly, he understood now. "But what about Kauroko and Mizuki-?"

Or not. "They'll just tell my father."

"What about your brother? He's going to be an uncle, and he dislikes your father almost as much as you!"

"First of all, no one dislikes my father as much as I do, and Haruhiko certainly doesn't. He works for him; he doesn't need to know at all." Misaki didn't have any more arguments, apparently, so Akihiko tried to go back to reading the magazine, but his vision was blurry. He reached for his glasses, but before he could put them on, Misaki spoke again.

"Your mother?" he asked, his voice small. Akihiko sighed.

"Don't ask," was all he said in reply, and Misaki nodded in understanding. "Don't worry, the kid will have enough family - we'll all make up for the lack of everyone else, okay?"

Misaki looked at him. "Okay." Then he paused for a moment. "Wait - does this mean the baby will have the last name of Takahashi?"

"Why wouldn't they?" he replied. "Would you really want our child to carry the Usami name?"

Misaki paled. "Uh, no," he said, and mumbled something about Usamones, looking horrified. "So... um, about individual names... does your family have some sort of customs or something - "

Akihiko would rather he be able to avoid any connection to his family, but if this was enough to placate Misaki about them, so be it. "The Usami family has a tradition of naming all females with names that end in 'ko', even now, when it's far less popular to do so. The male names sometimes end in 'ki'."

Misaki blinked. "Yours doesn't."

"The 'hiko' ending is from my father's side. He married into the family, remember?" Akihiko was finding this conversation horrendously boring, and hoped Misaki would end it there. He didn't.

"Uh, yeah. So the whole seasons thing -"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. My father was born in winter, and Haruhiko was born in spring."

"Your birthday's March third -"

"The appropriate seasons were already taken, then," he said, and went back to reading his magazine – or tried to. Damn hyperopia. He reached for his glasses and put them on; Misaki was still standing there, for some reason. He looked at Misaki. "Anything else?"

There was a moment of silence. Then -

"How did you come up the name for 'Mahiro'?"

He raised his eyebrow at Misaki. "Isn't it obvious?"

Misaki furrowed his brows together. The boy could be so dense sometimes. "No..."

"I combined the English spelling of Takahiro and Manami's names."

Misaki blinked, then stared at him. "That's all? That's how you came up with his name?"

He resisted the urge to pout. He'd thought it rather clever. "Yes. I guess the way I'd combine our names would be 'Mihiko'... I can't think of any other -"

"I don't like it," Misaki said, firmly. Again, he had to resist the urge to pout.

"Fine, then you come up with a name," he said. "I don't have any other suggestions."

Misaki just nodded, and wandered off, muttering a list of names that ended in "ko" and "hiko". Akihiko sighed and went back to reading his magazine, finally.

Misaki could feel his eyebrows dip inward as he looked at the results of his arithmetic and compared them against the book he held in his hand. Well, that name's definitely out, he thought as he crossed Rokuko off the list. He put down the book, and picked up another one, looking at the long list of baby names. Maybe Masahiko?

"Misaki, what are you doing?" Misaki looked up from his books to see Usagi, still in reading glasses, walking towards him, one of the glass mugs he'd labeled "HOT" in hand. From what he could tell, it smelled like tea - black tea, the kind Usagi favored, having grown up with it the most in England. The older man picked up the book Misaki had been looking at before.

"Seimei Handen?" he said, looking over the cover and opening it up. "You're really serious about this name business, aren't you?"

Misaki felt himself flush. "Of course! Names are very important!" He wrote down the different kanji for Masahiko, noting the number of strokes in each.

"What, did you get teased as a child for having a girl's name?" Misaki glared at Usagi. He didn't like remembering that! It had been bad enough he'd had a girl's name, but he'd looked so feminine, and then there was the time his classmates had put a fake tiara on his head and called him a pretty, pretty princess -

Usagi snorted. "Pretty, pretty princess?" He blinked. Did he just say that last bit out loud? Damn him and his tendency to unknowingly voice his thoughts! Usagi looked him at him thoughtfully. "Actually, you'd look good in -"

"NO," Misaki said, trying to stop the man before he even started.

Unfortunately, he didn't succeed, as Usagi just muttered, "I'll just write that into my next BL,", and Misaki had to resist the urge to smack his head against the table. Usagi took that moment to grab the list of names Misaki had written down as acceptable and examined them.

"Not Hachiko, that's my grandmother's name," he said, grabbing a pen and crossing it out. "And I had an Aunt Ayako who always treated me like some sort of rabid dog - take that name off the list, too. And Kyouko — "

"How about you give me a list of names your relatives had, then?" Misaki suggested, watching the man cross out a few more names. "Or you take the list after I'm done, and tell me which ones you approve of."

Usagi looked at him and shrugged. "Whatever. You already shot down my idea." He pouted.

Misaki rolled his eyes. "There was a really mean kid named Mihiko in one of my classes when I was a kid, alright?"

"Was he the one who put the tiara on your head?"

Misaki glared at him, but Usagi just smiled.

"How about I put a tiara on your head?" he said with a leer, and Misaki squeaked and ran upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind him and locking it.

Wait, this was Usagi's room - well, their room now, but the important thing was -

"Misaki," Usagi crooned as he opened the door, key in hand, "you don't need a tiara. I can just -" And with that, Usagi grabbed him from behind, biting down on his ear and rubbing him through his jeans, causing all his blood to rush south.

_Damn hormones _was Misaki's last coherent thought of the day.

* * *

Akihiko woke up to the sight of ribbons of light streaming through the purple silk sheet covering his head, making their way through the slats in the blinds. He groaned and reached over, groping blindly, hoping to find Misaki's warm body. When he felt no sign of his lover, he rolled over to find the space Misaki usually occupied was empty, wrinkled sheets left behind in his wake.

Damn, it's Monday. He stretched and forced his body out of bed, hoping he was awake early enough to be able to eat Misaki's delicious breakfast.

Getting up, he found himself staring at the floor, as, for some reason, it was littered with pairs of pants. They were too small to be his, so they had to be Misaki's.

"Weird," he muttered, and then proceeded to get dressed.

Upon walking downstairs, he heard the sizzle of Misaki's cooking - he hadn't missed breakfast, good - and the noises of some television show that were far too loud and cheerful for this early in the morning.

Groaning, he found the remote control and changed the channel, the bright colors of some anime changing into the dull ones of a news program.

"And now an breaking update on our top story, the murder of Representative Kobayashi Isamu..."

"Hey! I was watching that!" Misaki called out, walking over to where Akihito was sitting and snatching the remote. He changed it back to the infuriatingly loud and annoying television show. "It's the Da*Man anime!"

"All the more reason for you not to watch it, then," he said, thinking of the mangaka and his smug grin. "Besides, aren't you making breakfast?"

"I can multitask!" Akihiko turned his head, eyebrow raised, only to do a double take as he saw the pants Misaki was wearing.

"Misaki, are those pants... mine?"

Misaki's face flushed red. In the background, the television speakers boomed the announcement of a commercial break. Akihiko muted the television as he waited for a response. "Well, none of mine would fit, and you have a wider waist..."

"How are you not tripping over them?" he asked, amused, remembering the time Misaki had tried on a pair of his pants and promptly fell over.

Misaki's face went a shade redder. "I stapled the excess inside the legs," he admitted, and Akihiko noticed the shine of something small and metallic near his knee. "I was really desperate, it's just for today; I'll replace them, I swear!"

"Don't worry about," he told him, figuring Misaki would freak if he learned the pants cost a measly 40,000 yen. "We'll get you some tailored pants later, after work."

Misaki furrowed his brow. "No, I have to buy groceries today. Besides, wouldn't I just grow out of them really soon?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What else do you suggest?"

"I dunno," he said, frowning. Misaki sighed, and his voice took on a frustrated tone. "It would be nice if my body would, y'know, actually fit a pair of pants that didn't involve so much tailoring, but since that doesn't seem possible..."

"We'll go tomorrow, you can wear those pants for another day," he said, ignoring his lover's kvetching; there really wasn't anything they could do about it, after all. He then sniffed the air, smelling smoke. "Is something burning?"

Misaki's eyes widened. "The eggs!" He scrambled back to the kitchen to save the food.

Akihiko snorted. So much for multitasking. He turned off the television with a slight smirk.

When Misaki returned home from work, groceries in arms, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar man in the apartment, sitting on their couch. He was dressed in a crisp black suit and had the straightest posture Misaki had ever seen. Usagi was in a chair opposite, looking distinctly as though he'd rather eat green peppers than be where he was now. Did he have an interview he hadn't told him about?

"I'm home," he said, tentatively, but Usagi didn't reply. Instead, the strange man stood up and smiled at him, greeting him with a bow.

"Takahashi Misaki, I presume?" the man said, after Misaki had responded in kind after putting the groceries on the floor. When Misaki nodded, he continued. "My name is Seto Kyoshi, and I am a governmental secretary. Come, sit down."

As Misaki marveled at the strangeness at being invited to sit down in his own house. He tried to catch Usagi's eye, but the man kept staring at his hands that were clenched in his lap. Misaki picked up the groceries and set them on the kitchen counter. He hoped this wouldn't take long, some of those groceries needed to be put away as soon as possible. He sat down at a distance from Seto, and nodded at the man to continue.

"Well, Takahashi-san, the government has taken an interest in your... condition. You are around three months along, correct?"

Misaki felt his mouth go dry, but he nodded. They couldn't take away the baby, could they?

"Very good," the man continued. He shuffled his papers. "A recent ordinance has dictated that all pregnant males and their partners must sign a confidentiality agreement, in which they agree to tell only a limited number of people about the male's condition and the existence of the condition at all, as chosen by the pregnant male and partner at signing."

Misaki started to feel a little dizzy.

"What happens if I refuse?" he asked.

"Ah, then the government has the right to take any children resulting from the pregnancy and put them in a different home, as well as possibly redacting citizenship of the biological parents of the child, or exporting if they lack citzenship already."

Misaki felt himself begin to sweat and his heart beat so hard it began to hurt. This was insane! He looked at Usagi, but the man still didn't look at him.

"Now, Usami-sensei here has named Aikawa Eri, Takahashi Takahiro, Takahashi Manami, and Takahashi Mahiro as people who know and aren't directly affected by the condition themselves. Are there any others?"

Misaki sighed. He really didn't have a choice. "Toudou Shinnosuke." He thought for a moment. "And, uh, my bosses at Marukawa Publishing, I believe -"

Usagi snorted. "I wouldn't worry about them." When Seto-san and Misaki gave him an odd look, he just muttered, "check your list," at Seto-san, then went back to his mopey posture.

"Ah, I see," the man said, looking at a heavy stack papers. He coughed lightly, and then looked back at Misaki. "I will add Toudou Shinnosuke to the list of agreed-upon persons, as per Takahashi-san's request. As per the ordinance, you and your partner are guaranteed maternal leave equivalent to those given to pregnant females and their partners. We recommend you begin to take it before the fifth month to ensure your condition may be kept secret." Seto-san smiled. It didn't seem natural. "Any questions?"

Misaki looked at Usagi, but the man didn't make any more movement.

"No," Misaki said, "I guess not."

"Very good," Seto-san said, then indicated a line on the paper. "I'll need you to sign here; Usami-sensei has already signed."

Misaki took the paper and pen and signed his name.

"Very good!" Seto-san said as he was handed the signed paper. "We appreciate your cooperation."

Misaki held back a snort. "If you have any further questions about the agreement, I left the number you can call with Usami-sensei. Have a good day." With that, Seto-san bowed in a goodbye and was out the door.

Misaki stared at Usagi for a moment, but the man didn't move.

"I'm going to make dinner," he said, picking up his groceries from were he placed them on the coffee table and walking into the kitchen.

"Misaki," he heard Usagi mumble as he was putting away the small box of chocolate strawberries he'd been unable to resist the urge to grab when was at the store. Stupid hormones...

As he began to chop the broccoli, he heard soft footsteps approaching, and then the warmth of a body behind him and arms grabbing him in a weak embrace. "Misaki," Usagi muttered into his hair, and Misaki mentally cursed at the delightful shiver that ran down in his spine in response.

"Usagi-san, I have a knife," he said. "I wouldn't want to cut you by accident."

"Misaki would never do that," Usagi said, but his voice held no humor, just a complete seriousness that worried Misaki.

"Dinner will be ready in less than an hour, why don't you go do your work in the meantime? I'm sure you have another deadline coming up," he said, but Usagi didn't move, just stood there breathing against him, the small shivers running down his spine not yet stopping.

"Misaki," Usagi murmured again, and Misaki felt his face heat up.

"Usagi-san, please! Just leave me alone for a bit! I'll call you when dinner's ready!"

Usagi released him, and Misaki turned around to watch him slump away, defeated. He felt a pull in his stomach he was sure wasn't due to his condition, but shook his head and went back to cooking, trying to forget the way Usagi had looked as he walked away.

* * *

**Before my usual endnotes, I'd just like to be safe, so:**

**Please be aware anything written in this fanfic is not meant to be criticism of a government or governments; this is completely a work of fiction.**

**There. Probably didn't need that, but I just wanted to be safe, so...**

**Endnotes:**

**The "whole seasons thing": The Aki in Akihiko's name is spelt with the kanji for autumn, Haruhiko has the kanji for spring, and Fuyuhiko has the kanji for winter. Oh, the things I learn from TvTropes...**

**Hyperopia: Far-sightedness.**

**Seimei Handen: A type of fortunetelling (of personality/general luck, anyway) of sorts; it's based on the number of strokes in each kanji in a person's name. The different numbers indicate fortune or misfortune; it's kinda like numerology in the West, only, from what information I could gather, it seems to be more common and well-known.**

**The Stapled Pants: I originally had him cut them, but figured stapling them would be funnier. I'm actually not sure how it would work; I'm imaging it a bit like hemming them, except made of much fail. (I was originally writing an entirely different version of this scene with a Mistake cameo and more obvious annoyance on Misaki's part about not getting his pants to fit, but that didn't work, so I wrote it this way instead. Anyway.)**

**40,000 yen: By current exchange rate, that's about 485 American dollars, 347 Euros, 304 British Pounds, 6,047 Mexican Pesos, 491 Canadian Dollars, 641 New Zealand Dollars, 21,017 Philippine Pesos, or 21,494 Indian Rupees... I think that takes care of most of the nationalities I've seen in this fandom on this site , though obviously not all, but hopefully you can look it up – or recognize another – if I didn't include your currency? Just trying not to be American-centric – and, okay, yeah, I find exchange rates interesting, even though I have no interest in economics. I'm just weird that way. I blame it on my father, he's an accountant. Okay, ending tangent now...Next part will start in Misaki's PoV (still in limited third), instead of Usagi's. Just so you know. :)**


	9. Chapter 5, Part 2: Romantica

Usagi seemed to be back to normal the next day, making weird comments and groping Misaki at every available opportunity. Still, when Misaki told him he had to leave in the next half hour so he could reach his obstetrician's office in time for his appointment, so he'd have to heat the leftovers in the fridge for dinner, Usagi took on a sudden sullen air, shading his eyes with his bangs.

"Where is it? I'll drive you," he offered, his voice strangely grim.

"Don't be silly, Usagi-san, it's right next to the train stop, and, besides, don't you some overdue manuscript you should be working on?"

Usagi didn't deny the last bit. "You're more important."

"And I'm telling you to work on your manuscript!"

"Misaki..." Usagi moved closer to him, his tall figure imposing, and Misaki felt as though he was being sucked into the dark mood he was radiating, overwhelmed with whatever worries were troubling Usagi now, making him look so very... something.

_Frightened, Misaki realized, and he wondered what could have possibly happened to make Usagi look like the animal of his nickname he so rarely seemed to represent._

Whatever it was, Misaki had an appointment to get to, and he wasn't going to be late.

"I'll be back in a hour, okay? Possibly less."

Usagi didn't say anything to that, just stood there, the same depressing aura hanging around him, so Misaki turned to go out the door, figuring he could figure out what was bothering Usagi later. It would probably bug him the entire ride on the train -

"You might not."

The words were so low, so quiet, Misaki almost didn't hear them, but he did, so he turned around to look at Usagi. "What?

Usagi-san, what's going on?" Sure, there was always a risk with traveling - he knew that, had since he was a kid, didn't need to be reminded - but there was no reason for Usagi to be fretting over this now. Was there?

Usagi just sighed and said, "I don't want to leave you alone." Misaki waited for him to say something else, but he didn't, so he just stared as Usagi in confusion.

"What, I need a chaperon everytime I leave the apartment now?" Usagi didn't say anything, just stood there, not meeting his eyes. "You're becoming even more possessive! If this is what I have to deal with for the rest of my life -"

"They think it was a hate crime."

Misaki blinked. What was Usagi talking about? "Huh?"

"The Representative, Kobayashi Isamu, the one they found murdered... he was pregnant."

There was a stillness to the air that didn't want to leave, just stagnated with oppressing heaviness. He had the sudden, fleeting thought that he needed to breathe. "Why would -"

Usagi gave a bitter laugh. "People hate whatever's different. All they need is societal approval - or what they perceive to be societal approval - to act on it."

Misaki swallowed; he'd never heard Usagi speak with so much cynicism before, with such harshness, and he never wanted to hear it again.

Usagi continued, his tone not as harsh, more resigned, "That's why... the ordinance. They think if they keep it silent..." His posture slouched forward.

"How did you know this?" Misaki asked.

"Seto-san told me."

_Then why didn't he tell me? he thought, but couldn't bring himself to ask it; instead, he turned his head away from Usagi and blinked back the tears forming in his eyes, breathing heavily._

"I told him not to tell you," he heard Usagi say, and he looked back at his lover, his eyes widening. _What_? "I didn't want to worry you, and cause you stress that might harm... it. And you."

Misaki felt like his heart was bursting, and let his confusing swirl of emotions out in a shout, "so you figured you'd keep me caged, never allowed to leave on my own, without telling me why?"

"I wanted you to be safe!" Usagi replied. "I don't want you to get so upset you endanger yourself!"

"How am I supposed to keep safe if I don't know what I need to keep myself safe from?"

"You just have to trust that I know what's right for you!"

Misaki felt like he'd heard that before, said by someone to Usagi himself, and before he could stop himself he blurted out, "What, like your father does?"

Misaki regretted those words as soon as they came out of his mouth; he knew he had gone to far. Usagi just stood there, his bangs covering his eyes, his shoulders hunched. He let out a weak, pitiful "Misaki..."

There was a painful silence in the air; Misaki knew he could blame it all on hormones, but he knew, somehow, this went deeper than that. There was something else, something he couldn't name, but he knew he couldn't deal with it now; he put it on the backburner, focusing on the present. That was right, he had an appointment to get to, and after what Usagi had told him, he didn't want to go alone (well, as alone as he could be at this point, what with his condition and all). He looked at Usagi; the man was still standing there, looking upset.

"Usagi," he started, and Usagi stopped his brooding to look at him, "I'm sorry. I went too far... you're not... like him..."

Usagi just continued to stare at him.

"I'm still not happy about what you did. But I do understand... why..." He swallowed, and took a deep breath, then gave Usagi a semi-forced smile. "And, more importantly, I'd like a ride to my appointment." His smile faded slightly. "Please."

Usagi gave him a small smile of his own. "Of course."

It was only when they were driving to the doctor Misaki realized what had gotten him so upset: Usagi was possessive. This was fine with him, he begrudgingly admitted to himself, but... he didn't know how that would work with the baby; it could easily become too much, creating a rift between them.

Yet even worse was the other frightening possibility: Usagi not caring about the baby at all.

Unlike Yamamoto-sensei, Hayashi Hitomi, obstetrician, was a warm, cheerful person with a sunny personality. Akihiko had met her once before, during Misaki's first appointment with her; afterwords, Misaki had insisted on going to the appointments alone, and Akihiko had seen no point in protesting.

"Ah, Usami-sensei, good to see you! I assume you're here to hear the heartbeat, yes?"

Akihiko shot Misaki an annoyed look; why had he not mentioned that detail? Surely, he should have known he would have _some_ interest in being able to hear the heart of his own child.

Misaki just laughed nervously. "I thought you weren't able to find it last appointment."

She looked at him oddly. "Yes, but I told you we'll definitely be able to hear it this week." She looked to Akihiko again. "If you don't mind, the interesting part is at the end of the appointment; would you mind sitting out here

in the waiting room for a bit? I'll call you in when we get to the good stuff."

"That's fine by me," he said, and took a seat in the waiting room as Misaki and the doctor walked off to the exam room.

The waiting room was sparse and minimalist, extremely modern in stark neutral tones, entirely different from his own doctor's waiting room Akihiko had gotten use to over the years. He wished he'd had the presence of mind to bring something to read, but he'd been so preoccupied with worries about Misaki -

He shook his head. He already had wasted hours last night worrying over it, resulting in a nightmare wherein he had to identify Misaki's mutilated corpse. He'd woken up in a cold sweat, saw Misaki in a deep sleep behind him, and promptly broke his one-pack-a-week rule and smoked a pack and a half in fifteen minutes - outside, of course, but still.

Thinking about this wasn't good for him, he realized, as he rubbed his sleeve where he knew the nicotine patch was, as if that would offset the craving.

He looked around for something to read, but all he saw were pregnancy and parenting magazines with screaming headlines: "112 ways to lose the baby weight" - not his concern - "The Latest Fashions for Maternity Clothes" - _really_ not his concern, - "Should you have a natural birth?" - he snorted at that one - "The Ins and Outs of Lamaze" - now it was just getting ridiculous -

"Usami-sensei?" He turned towards the sound to see the receptionist waving him over. He walked up to the front desk. "Hayashi-sensei and Takahashi-san are ready for now. They're in exam room 3, second door on the left. The door's locked for privacy so you'll have to knock."

Akihiko felt a sudden wave of nervous anticipation come over him, but he shook it off and thanked the receptionist before following her directions to the exam room. He took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves, steeled himself, and knocked on the door.

The door opened to reveal Hayashi-sensei. "Ah, Usami-sensei, please come in!"

He walked in the door to see Misaki on the exam bed, swollen belly exposed and looking sheepish.

"You can sit down in the chair next to Takahashi-san, Usami-sensei," the doctor said, and gestured at the stool next to the table. Akihiko did so, reaching for Misaki's hand and squeezing it. Misaki's face took on a rosy blush in response.

"Hi," Misaki muttered, and then averted his eyes. All Akihiko could do was squeeze his hand again.

"So, today we can listen to the heartbeat," Hayashi-sensei said, and he turned to look at her. She was holding what appeared to be a type of stethoscope in her hands, though this one had a longer tube at the end, and used a spiral wire to connect, like an old phone cord. "I'm going to use what's called a doppler stethoscope to locate the heartbeat, and then let each of you listen to it in turn."

His throat felt horrendously dry; he nodded, and watched as the doctor sat next to Misaki and placed the long tube on his abdomen. He could feel the silence prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He looked at Misaki's face; his lover was wide-eyed, looking strangely terrified. Then the doctor nodded and smiled.

"Would you like to hear, Takahashi-san?" she asked Misaki, gently, and Misaki swallowed audibly, sweat sliding down his face.

"Um, yeah," he stuttered, squeezing Akihiko's hand so tight he felt as though his hand might drop off.

"Okay, I will warn you that the heartbeat sounds fast, but that's normal." The doctor placed the earpieces in his ears.

For a moment, Misaki looked like he was about to cry. Then he just smiled weakly, and nodded.

"Thank you, Hayashi-sensei," he said, his voice stronger now.

She looked at Akihiko now. "Would you like to, Usami-sensei?"

"Of course," he said, his voice hoarse and strangely loud in his ears. She handed him the top half of the stethoscope and he put the earpieces in his ears.

It sounded like fast panting, rather than the more peaceful, slow rhythm of the heart he was more accustomed to, a bit more alien then he expected. Still, he felt a lump form in his throat at the sound in his ears.

Everything seemed to be happening so fast.

He took out the earpiece and handed it back to the doctor, thanking her. She smiled at him as she put the instrument away.

"We should be able to do the first ultrasound sometime the next month, in three or four appointment's time, so you can come for that one if you'd like."

Akihiko nodded in response, making a mental note to not have any overdue deadlines at the point. He already had one as it was; he was going to get a brutal beating from Aikawa tomorrow.

"Well, if that's it, then I'll see you in two weeks, Takahashi-san," the doctor said.

Back on the road, Akihiko kept noticing the way the roll of the car mimicked, to some extent, the heartbeat he'd just listened to. He shook himself, but it was no use; it was already happening.

He was growing attached.

Even worse, the kind of attachment that was all-consuming, the one that would make a person worry over the tiniest slight and panic over the slightest bit of distress.

Still, he'd never really considered it anything over than unavoidable; he'd just hoped it wouldn't have had to happen so _soon_.

"Hey, Usagi?" Misaki said, and he turned to look at him.

"Yes?"

"Uh, can we just stay home for the rest of the day? I know I have to get clothes, but right now I'd rather just..." His face looked strangely pink.

Akihiko smiled. "Of course," he said, and went to focus back on the road.


	10. Chapter 6: Terrorist

**And with this, Terrorist starts, which means I've managed to feature all the couples in this fic! Yes! So, uh yeah, after this short chapter we have another Terrorist chapter, than Egoist, than back to Romantica. Hopefully all this switching around isn't too confusing...?**

**I have a Romantica AU I'm working on right now, which I'm debating whether or not to post; if I do, this will still be my priority. **

**Song title this time comes from Home Town Heroes' "Bed of Dreams". All reviews welcome and much loved. All other notes at the end.**

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Chapter Six: Sit On This Bed of Dreams, On My Way Home

"Shinobu! You're going to miss class if you sleep any longer!" Miyagi called, pounding against his lover's bedroom door. It was one of those warm days in July, which meant that every student - and teacher - was getting to the point they just wanted to be on break rather than in stuffy classrooms, but, still, he'd never had to awaken Shinobu before for a day of class, no matter what time the boy fell asleep - and in what physical condition. It was a bit worrying, but he figured everyone had their off days.

"Shinobu-chin!"

He heard a groan from the other side of the door, followed by the door opening to reveal a red-eyed, shaking, and flushed Shinobu.

"Miyagi, I don't feel so good..."

He sighed in response, running a hand through his hair. He had a meeting today he couldn't miss, so staying home wasn't an option. "Go lie back down," he said.

Shinobu nodded and got back under the bedcovers, pulling them up to his chin.

"Do you have a fever?" he asked, putting the back of his hand against Shinobu's forehead to discover he was burning up.

"I haven't left the room," Shinobu responded, closing his eyes and pulling the covers tighter.

"I'll get the thermometer," Miyagi said, a small "thank you" following him as he left.

Shinobu did have a fever, it turned out; the thermometer read "38.3" in glowing bright red numerals. Miyagi gave Shinobu aspirin to reduce his fever, put a cooling sheet on his forehead, and prepared congee for Shinobu to reheat; he figured even Shinobu could use a microwave without the result being utter chaos.

"You really should call the dean," he told him, which made Shinobu open one blurry eye to look at him.

"My father? He'd want to know where I am; I can't tell him that." Somehow, even sick with fever and only one open eye, Shinobu managed a glare which sent shivers down Miyagi's spine.

"No, I meant the Dean of Student Affairs at Teito; report yourself sick so you have an excused absence."

Shinobu closed his eye and rolled over. "Each of my teachers allows one excused absence, so there's no reason to bother. Besides, there's some been twenty-four hour bug going around Teito; plenty of people have had a single absence recently."

Miyagi had a feeling that at least some of those absences were end-of-the-term-who-cares-about-class-anymore absences, but if Shinobu was okay with appearing to have skipped class, he wasn't about to push it.

"Alright, well I have to get to work," he said, standing up and taking his leave.

"You're not staying?" The glare was back again.

"There's this mandatory meeting..."

"Alright," Shinobu said, a distinct huff following, and Miyagi knew he'd have to make this up to him somehow.

Work was, as Miyagi expected, incredibly dull and with a suspicious number of absent students. Kamijou was as crabby as usual; Miyagi had tried to cheer him up by pointing out he wouldn't have to deal with lazy students next term, which caused Kamijou to flush and glare.

"That's because I'm taking _medical leave_, Professor. The whole medical part is a bit important."

"Nah, you're just leaving me so I have to fend off those crazy students myself."

Kamijou rolled his eyes. "First, I actually _like_ the students I teach -"

Miyagi snorted. "Is that why you throw books at them?"

Kamijou chose to ignore him. "Second, you shouldn't have to _fend off_ students - "

_Ah yes, _Miyagi thought, _an opportunity to annoy the hell out of Kamijou. Excellent._ "But I can't help it if they see me as so desirable - "

Kamijou paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Then is there some kind of scent you give off that attracts teenagers?"

Miyagi blinked. _That _was a low blow. Kamijou must be more annoyed than usual. "Hey! I'll have you know that Shinobu-chin is now twenty-one years old!"

"A college student? Like the kind you teach?"

"Because you didn't do _certain things_ with a certain college student in a certain library -"

Kamijou's face went red as he began to splutter. Miyagi smirked; he was always so easy to embarrass, how... reliable.

"Anyway, Shinobu-chin's graduating after next semester - which reminds me, I need to call him - " He flipped open his phone and hit 1 on speed dial.

"Interrupting a class to call a student, Professor?" Kamijou remarked, apparently back to form.

"Hmm? I'm not - no, he's home sick, has some horrible fever - " He watched the connection status; it was on the fourth ring now and Shinobu still hadn't picked up -

"Oh?"

"Some nasty 24 hour bug that's going around his school, apparently." Shinobu's phone was on the fifth ring now, was he still sleeping?

"Really?" Kamijou's face had gone strangely pale, and had contorted into an expression of some sort of horror.

The call went to voicemail. He closed the phone without leaving a message and gave his assistant a curious look. "Kamijou, do you _know_ anything about this?"

There was a pause, Kamijou looking as if he was holding something back. "Just... get him to the hospital, okay?"

He felt his heart hammer. Shinobu being in a hospital wasn't on his list of things he ever wanted to happen - he'd seen enough of hospitals in his lifetime, thank you very much.

"Kamijou, if there's something you're not telling me that affects Shinobu's health, I swear I will not be held responsible for my actions - "

"What? No, if it's what I think it is, he'll be fine! Just... get him checked out at a hospital, okay?"

The bell rang at that moment, signaling the end of break, and the end of their conversation. Miyagi sighed; Shinobu hadn't picked up, he hoped he was alright.

Unfortunately, Miyagi would not get the chance to check on Shinobu the moment school ended. He had a end-of-term meeting to attend, during which he found he could not concentrate on anything other than worrying over Shinobu. Miyagi tried pinching himself to distract himself from any morbid thoughts, and when that started to fail, he started to mentally recite every Matsuo Bashou haiku he could think of, in alphabetical order.

"So, that's it, everyone. See you all next term. Thank you."

_Finally_, Miyagi thought, but as he rose from his seat, the Dean made a beeline straight for him.

"Miyagi-kun, I'd like to talk to you about your planned sabbatical for first semester next year."

Miyagi held back a sigh. He'd forgotten about that...

"Unless you have some other plans?"

_Oh, crap._ Damn it, he hoped Kamijou was being honest when he said Shinobu would be fine...

* * *

Shinobu had never experienced such restless sleep before. His fevered dreams were strangely intense; they mostly consisted of a giant man made of cabbage who kept insisting he was Miyagi. Shinobu, of, course, was made of pumpkin. "I keep forgetting," Dream-and-Cabbage Miyagi had said, "do babies come from the cabbage patch or the pumpkin patch?"

Then they had babies with pumpkin bodies and cabbage heads, and lived together in a field with a scarecrow, who looked strangely like Miyagi's assistant.

Somehow, the last part annoyed him the most.

When Shinobu finally got up properly, Miyagi still wasn't home. He wondered if his assistant had kept him late, and felt a sudden desire to hide all Miyagi's work clothes. He shook it off, and, grabbing on to whatever he could to steady himself in his slightly disoriented state, made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He felt as though he'd sweated out his body's entire water supply. He needed new clothes, too, but first he had to get something to eat and drink.

The sight of cabbage in the fridge sent a shiver down his spine as he recalled his dream; it was as though the fridge was filled with baby heads, like it belonged to some creepy infanticidal maniac.

Luckily, Miyagi had prepared some congee, so Shinobu just reheated that.

It was much later that Miyagi finally did return home, looking exhausted. He looked surprised to see Shinobu awake and out of bed.

"How are you feeling?" Miyagi asked him, feeling his forehead.

"Much better," he replied. "My temperature's down to 37.6."

"Good," Miyagi said, sounding utterly relieved. Then, under his breath, "Kamijou probably had no clue what he was talking about."

_What's that about that assistant of his?_ he thought, annoyed, and directed a glare Miyagi's way.

Miyagi gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I'm back so late, your father wanted to talk to me about my requested sabbatical."

"Oh, okay... wait, what?"

Miyagi cocked his head. "Didn't I tell you? I'm trying to go on sabbatical for first semester next year. Officially, I'm going on sabbatical to do research related to Matsou Bashou and write a paper to present at a conference in September; unofficially, I'm taking time to help a certain person ease into being part of the full-time Japanese workforce."

"You don't need to do that," he said, though he was secretly delighted; the idea of Miyagi taking time off to devote more time to him, even for a little while, made him so happy he could barely contain himself. If it wasn't for the fact he was still a little woozy, he'd be jumping Miyagi right now. As it was, his face and neck burned with a blush.

"Ah, but I _want_ to, Shinobu-chin," Miyagi said, sitting down on the couch next to him and stroking his hair, and it took all his willpower not to drag Miyagi down onto the cushions then and there. "Besides, I can make you a heart-shaped bento every day!" Somehow, that ridiculously cheesy line made him decide to hell with wooziness and physical recovery, and he mumbled a "stupid Miyagi" before pushing him, with a force no sick person should have, down on the coach cushions and kissing him soundly.

"Shinobu-chin? Are you sure you're up to this?" Miyagi asked him as he tried to unbutton his shirt. For some reason, it was being difficult. Stupid small buttons.

"The question is, are you up to it, old man?"

At that, the light in Miyagi's eyes darkened, and he took charge, rising up and pushing Shinobu down with a sudden ferocity.

_Hell yes_, he thought as he felt Miyagi's frenzied caresses, taking both their clothes off with a sudden urgency. Sometimes, he could hit this primal switch in Miyagi, and it always resulted in this kind of madly feral sex, fast and passionate, the kind that made him quickly forget where he was and took over all his worries and fears with pure, pleasurable feeling.

He succumbed to the sensations; if he got sick again, it'd be more than worth it.

* * *

**Endnotes:**

**38.3 degrees Centigrade is about 101 degrees Fahrenheit; 37.6 is about 99.8.**

**Congee is a porridge-like food that, according to the ridiculous amount of manga I've read and Wikipedia, is a popular dish to serve to sick people. **

**As for calling in sick to school – writing a message to the Dean of Student Affairs is how it works at my school, but that may be because a) I attend a small liberal arts college with a overwhelmingly residential campus and b) there's an honor code. So it might work differently elsewhere; if anyone has a better idea of how it work with Shinobu's school, please tell me, and I'll fix it.**

**I'm hoping the characters weren't OOC here; certain parts were difficult to write for some reason.**

**Next chapter should be... sometime next week?**


	11. Chapter 7, Part 1: Terrorist

**More Terrorist! This chapter has a fair amount of ~drama~ coming up; considered yourself warned – not that there's so much that you need to be... anyway...**

**I wanted to get this revised and posted earlier, but unfortunately, school interfered, along with a terrible sleep debt and an Ulnar Tunnel Syndrome flair up. Therefore, I didn't get as far as I wanted to in the next part of this chapter – it's barely started, but hopefully it will be out before a week's time, as I know what's going to happen, I just have to write it. **

**Anyway, the next part of this chapter will finish it up, then comes some more Egoist. The next Terrorist chapter after this one is chapter 10 (16 on the dropdown menu). **

**Chapter title this time comes from "Syndicate" by The Fray. Any and all types of reviews are always welcome, and keep me motivated and happy during any forced breaks. **

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Chapter 7: Close Your Eyes, Don't Open 'Til the Morning Light

Shinobu was one of those people who didn't get hangovers.

It wasn't that he didn't drink; he'd had his fair share of beers and wines, and not always stretched out over a reasonable period of time. He'd just, quite simply, never experienced a hangover in his young life.

He claimed it was due to being responsible. Others claimed it was because he was secretly inhuman.

Whatever it was, Shinobu felt as though he was experiencing the world's worst hangover now – which was strange, since he hadn't had any alcohol recently.

That didn't seem to matter, though, as he founding himself retching into the towel bowl for the nth time this morning. He had a headache from hell, and he wanted to destroy the cramping in his gut as violently as possible. Even worse, it was his mother's sixtieth birthday today, and no sickness was going him to let him miss that one – especially since his mother had said that if he didn't show up, she was going to personally track him down, find his apartment, and get an explanation as to why he didn't show.

So he finished emptying his stomach the best he could and spent ten minutes cleaning out his mouth, until he felt as though he'd gone to the dentist, but without the aftereffects of numbness from the Novocaine.

As he scurried through the kitchen, looking for some source of caffeine to get him through the day, he heard Miyagi's familiar footfalls and felt his shoulders relax in relief; Miyagi had no idea of his sudden sickness, and he didn't want to worry him unnecessarily.

The coffee he made was very bitter, but he downed it anyway. He made his way to his bedroom, pulling out the best suit he had, which he knew would please his mother; she always made such a fuss over being well-dressed, even to parties like the one today, where it would be only him, Risako, his father, and his mother. It was a weekday, so she was going to throw a far more grand party – to which she invited all her friends, her friends' friends, and her friends' friends' friends – on Saturday. She'd told him multiple times he could bring a guest, and he'd half-considered asking a friend from school if they knew a girl who would go with him as he obviously couldn't show up with the much older girlfriend he'd told his friends he had, but then decided that would be more of a lie than he was comfortable with. Besides, he was at the top of his class, so he could just let her impress of all her friends and acquaintances with that. She might try to hook him up, but he was fairly certain he could avoid any awkward dates as long as he claimed all his time was devoted to his studies and his part-time job.

But that would be Saturday, and today was Wednesday – his mother had been lucky enough to be born in very late July, so there was never any school on her birthday – so he focused instead on how to avoid his mother's questions of his love life in a small, intimate setting. Maybe he could get her to focus on Risako's instead...

He winced. The headache was getting worse, and the cramping wasn't getting much better. Maybe it was just nerves? Or guilt, from not telling his parents – no, he didn't think it was that. He was tempted to take a painkiller of some sort, but he was worried it would make the pain in his gut worse – what if it was an ulcer? It wasn't appendicitis, as he didn't have a fever...

An hour later, Shinobu still had no idea what was causing him pain, but he hadn't really tried to find out. Instead, he was in the entryway of his childhood home, taking off his shoes and greeting the butler, which he rebelliously called by his first name, Kanji.

"At least add an honorific to the end, Shinobu," Risako commented, walking up to him. "Nakaguchi-san isn't used to your eccentricities."

"Whatever," he said. Then he winced – the pain in his stomach had just surged for some reason. He crossed his arms over his stomach, curling into himself.

"Shinobu, are you alright?" Risako looked at him with concern.

"Just some weird pains... there's no fever, so it's probably nothing," he said. "Wouldn't want to miss mom's party."

Risako rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you're going to see her on Saturday, anyway. Go home."

"No, mom said if I don't show, she would track me down... and besides, I'm here, and it's not like I can't lie down if I need to."

"Mom would more than understand if you didn't come due to medical stuff. She wouldn't want to risk making you sick." Risako gave him a strange look. "Why do you need to keep where you live such a secret, anyway?"

The pain wasn't bad enough for him to let her even start to figure that one out. "Alright, I feel better, I should go find mom –"

Risako just sighed and shrugged. "Alright. She's in the main room of the house. She said as soon as you arrived, she was going to start lunch, because apparently she didn't eat breakfast for some reason."

Great. More food. "Okay, then let's go." Risako still looked at him skeptically, so he rolled his eyes at her and gave his best glare. "I'll be _fine_."

"If you say so," she said, and they walked together to greet their mother.

It was at the end of lunch, which consisted of miso soup, rice, whatever he could manage to stomach of the katusdon, and tea, that Shinobu felt as though he was going to throw up again. He hadn't eaten much, only as little as he could get away with eating in front of his mother, but he still felt horribly sick. Maybe he should have gone home.

"Excuse me," he said, and hightailed it to the nearest bathroom, glimpsing his parents' surprised faces as he left. Within moments, he was retching again, the bile that was coming up burning worse than it had before. He felt like he was vomiting up his entire digestive tract – his stomach, his intestines, his liver, his pancreas –

There was a knock. "Shinobu." The voice on the other side of the door was Risako's, and it was laced with concern. "Are you alright in there?"

"I'm fine," he called out, before vomiting again.

"That's it, I'm taking you to the hospital," she said. "By force, if I have to."

"No, wait – " As Shinobu tried to stand up, he felt a wave of vertigo overcome him. He grabbed onto the countertop to steady himself. He was tempted to get some water from the sink – his mouth felt so dry, and his lips might just be cracking – but he didn't even think he could move that much. Instead, he slumped to the floor, curling himself into a ball. The pain was so excruciating...

"Shinobu! What's going on!" Risako sounded panicked now. He wondered if he'd ever heard her sound like that before. "Hold on, I'll get the key –"

Shinobu didn't say anything, just closed his eyes.

The next time he opened them, he was somewhere else.

* * *

The time that Shinobu had almost left for Australia, Miyagi had driven his car so fast he'd been incredibly lucky he hadn't gotten a ticket (though Shinobu would claim it was destiny). Now, Miyagi was hoping his luck from last time would be with him again, because he was pushing his car to its limit.

When Miyagi had got the call Shinobu was in the hospital, he'd gotten into the car so fast he might as well have gotten whiplash. Now he was rushing towards the hospital where they'd taken Shinobu, mentally cursing himself for not listening to Kamijou's suggestion to take Shinobu to the doctor's when he was sick a week and a half ago.

Much to Miyagi's relief, the hospital parking lot wasn't very crowded, and he was able to find a spot easily. He ran from the car to the wide hospital doors, but found himself pausing before he entered. Memories of being eighteen and entering a hospital over and over again only to end up with so much pain surfaced from the depths of his past, but he shook them off. This time was different. Shinobu was going to be okay, because he didn't want to think of what would happen otherwise.

Inside, the hospital was calm, a façade to the chaos and life and death that happened further within. He walked up to the desk and asked for the room number for Takatsuki Shinobu.

"And who are you?" the receptionist asked him, eyebrow raised.

"Miyagi Yoh," he said. "They called me –"

"Oh, you're his medical proxy," she said, looking at her screen. "Room 321. Take the elevator to the third floor; the room will be to the left of where you exit."

"Thank you," he said, briskly walking to the elevator. He had no idea Shinobu had made him his medical proxy, but that wasn't important right now. What was important was Shinobu was here, and he had to see him.

The elevator couldn't arrive fast enough for Miyagi, and he was relieved to see he was the only one who needed it, even if he had only three floors to go. He could look for the stairs, but he was already having enough trouble breathing as it was – for once, he wished he'd never taken up smoking.

The sign that greeted him once the elevator doors slid open, a bored electronic voice welcoming him to the third floor, told him rooms 300-350 were to the left, as the receptionist had said. He walked as quickly as he could down the hall to room 321, a private room. Shinobu's name was written to the left of it.

Before he could even knock on the door, it opened to reveal a young doctor, most likely in his late twenties.

"Miyagi Yoh, I presume?" he said. He gave a slight bow, and Miyagi could barely bring himself to bow in response. "I'm Takaguchi-sensei, the doctor in charge of Takatsuki-san's case. Follow me - I'll led you to where everyone else is waiting."

"Shinobu –"

"Will be fine. He's not conscious right now, but he should be waking up very soon. Before that, however, I need to talk to you and his family about Takatsuki-san's condition."

Miyagi didn't like what he was hearing, even if the doctor did say that Shinbou would be fine, but he couldn't do anything about it so he followed the doctor to a private waiting room, where he hoped to get some answers. Already sitting there were the three people he expected to be there – the dean, Risako, and Shinobu's mother.

"Miyagi-kun, what are you doing here?" Shinobu's mother asked, clearly very confused. Risako and the dean seemed surprised to see him as well.

"Miyagi-san is Takatsuki-san's medical proxy," the doctor explained, but that didn't clear up any of the confusion.

"Why – " But before Shinobu's mother could say anything else, the doctor continued speaking.

"Takatsuki-san fainted earlier today due to, in part, dehydration. We were able to get an IV of rehydration solution started, and his body is showing no signs of trouble retaining the liquid. He should be up fairly soon."

There was a slight sense of relief pervading the atmosphere of the waiting room now, but Miyagi had a feeling that wouldn't be everything.

"By our estimates, he did not only past out from dehydration – his skin turgor was too good for that to be possible – but also from extreme pain. We did some blood tests," the doctor said, and Miyagi felt as though the ground was coming out from under him. "The results showed that Takatsuki-san is pregnant."

Utter silence filled the room for a few moments, as Miyagi tried to process what the doctor had just said. _What? How is that even –? _

"That's insane!" Shinobu's mother cried out, and Miyagi couldn't help but agree with her. "That's not possible!"

"Oh, yes it is," the dean said, and Miyagi looked at him. The expression on his face was clearly not just one of shock, but also of fear. "There's been a new virus recently – one that does things to the genetic code – "

"Then how come I never heard of it?" Shinobu's mother demanded.

"Because there's a gag order on all things relating to disease in the media. There are rules as to who can be told of its existence," the dean explained. "Believe me, I wouldn't have kept this stuff a secret if I didn't have to – it's one of those its hard _not_ to talk about."

"Then how do you – "

"One of my employees had to inform me of his condition to request time off."

_Kamijou?_ Miyagi thought, and things started to click into place. Kamijou telling him to get Shinobu looked at, the sick leave, the fact that Kamijou had been crabbier than usual – though, actually, there hadn't been _that_ much of a change in his level of grumpiness –

"The virus typically manifests as a high fever, lasting at most a day; the worst of the fever usually lasts only a few hours. Therefore, most of those infected typically don't make much note of it at first. For several weeks after the fever breaks, it is possible for the infected person to become pregnant."

"But – how?" Shinobu's mother asked. Out of the corner of his eye, Miyagi noticed that the dean went very pale; he wondered if his own face matched the dean's pallor.

"Sexual intercourse with another man," the doctor said, and Miyagi wanted noting more than to run away from here and not deal with the fallout. But there wasn't a choice; Shinobu needed him, now more than ever.

He looked at the Takatsuki family's faces. They all had a look of shock to them, but each held a different emotion as well: the dean's was fear, as it had been before; Shinobu's mother held disbelief, and Risako... looked as though she'd realized something. She was looking directly at him, too.

_Oh shit._

"But, but... Shinobu never said anything about... who...?" Shinobu's mother mumbled, her voice light and trembling.

"Yoh," Risako said, still looking right at him, and everyone turned to look at him then.

He couldn't deny it, but he couldn't bring himself to confirm it, either. Instead, he stood there, frozen, as his world started to crumble into little pieces.

There was a thick silence, and then: "You beast! You monster! How dare you... _touch_ Shinobu! Now, he's – he's – "

Miyagi had never seen Shinobu's mother like this before. She was in hysterics, which was entirely different from her usual, far more calm demeanor. He still couldn't bring himself to say anything, to do anything, so he just remained stationary, Shinobu's mother hysterical screaming the only sound in the room.

That is, until the door opened. Shinobu's mother stopped screaming, and a nurse walked into the room.

"Takaguchi-sensei?" she said, looking at the doctor. "Takatsuki-san just woke up. As you requested, we informed him of his condition, and he's requesting Miyagi-san."

The doctor nodded. "Very well, then." He looked at Miyagi. "Miyagi-san, come with me; I'll come back for the rest of you."

"But – "

"I'm following the patient's request," the doctor said, then gestured for Miyagi to follow him. He forced himself to move, though he felt as though his body was separate from himself, like he was a puppeteer pulling strings. When they reached room 321, the doctor didn't say anything, just opened the door.

Miyagi walked in.


	12. Chapter 7, Part 2: Terrorist

White. Everything was white.

Well, until he turned his head. Then he saw an translucent IV drip, filled with a clear liquid. There was the constant sound of beeping from somewhere by his head, which he recognized from TV dramas. It was... an EKG? Something like that. It monitored the heart, anyway.

Which meant, of course, that he was in the hospital.

"Takatsuki-san!" He turned toward the voice to see a young nurse walking towards him. "I see you're awake." The nurse was dressed in all-white, matching the walls around her, her black hair the only thing that stood out against the colorless background.

He tried to say something, but his throat was so dry it hurt to even attempt to speak, like the time he'd had strep throat when he was twelve. Even then, though, he hadn't wound up in the hospital. He managed to whisper, his voice still rough with the strain, "was I asleep?"

The nurse smiled at him, though it looked somewhat hollow. She held out her hand, which held a paper cup full of something, transparent and glistening. "Here, ice chips. If you don't mind, I'm going to give you some of these; let them melt in your mouth, it should help with the dryness of your mouth and throat."

Shinobu was slightly annoyed at not being able to do it himself, but his arms felt strangely weak, like they were just regaining strength, so he opened his mouth obediently. She gave him some ice chips, and the ice melted quickly, moistening his mouth and smoothly dripping down his throat, like a drink of water in the Sahara. He still felt thirsty, but his tongue no longer felt like a weight that would stick to the top of his mouth forever. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, and gave him some more ice chips. "Do you have any idea why you're here?"

His throat felt a lot better now; he could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins, strengthening him and shifting him back into balance. "I passed out," he said. "I was vomiting, and my abdomen hurt, and I had a headache..."

"We've got you on IV painkillers right now for the pain, along with a hydrating solution. You passed out due to pain and dehydration."

"That's all?" he said. Somehow, that seemed wrong; there had to be something more here.

"Well, the cause of the pain and dehydration..." The nurse trailed off, shifting nervously, liking it was something she didn't want to say. Shinobu felt his stomach drop; he felt a disconnect from himself, and he wondered if he was dying.

"Spit it out!" he shouted, or tried to; his voice only reached so loud before it broke, still suffering from the effects of the dehydration.

The nurse look startled, then pulled up a chair, sitting next to his bedside. "Well, you see, Takatsuki-san, there's this condition — "

"Am I dying?" He wasn't in the mood for this bullshit, for this hedging.

The nurse's eyes widened in surprise. "What? No, no! That's not it at all!" She smiled for a moment, one far more genuine than the plastic one before. "You see, this condition… it only affects men who have been infected by this virus. You probably felt very sick recently, correct? For about a day?"

Shinobu nodded; he clearly remembered the day he'd been unable to attend school because of how sick he felt.

"Well, this virus, it stays in the body afterwords for awhile, and it changes the genetic structure a bit, so to speak. Turns on a gene. It makes it so the affected male can carry a child."

Shinobu just stared at her. _What? Is she pulling my leg? That doesn't —_

"I know it sounds impossible, but it... well, it isn't. The government's been very secretive about it - don't want to cause a panic... Anyway, the only other requirement is that the affected male is on the receiving end of anal sex with another man, which apparently..."

Shinobu just continued to stare at her. The woman was completely serious, but he wasn't sure if she was even sane. Maybe she was a crazed woman pretending to be a nurse and telling men they were pregnant for kicks? But then how would she even know about —

"It's lucky we thought to test you as soon as you came in — the doctor had another patient who recently had nearly fainted due to the symptoms of the pregnancy, and so he made sure to check that on the blood test. It came back positive — he did it twice, just to be sure."

Shinobu had given up on any rational thought, so he just stared at the woman.

"There are options — you're not very far along, if you choose to keep it, you won't have the baby 'til late winter or early spring. Anyway, if you choose to keep it, we can set you up with an approved obstetrician and start you on pre-natal vitamins right away. If you don't, we'll prep you for surgery — be advised, however, that the surgery is risky. It's medically safer to have it brought to full-term. In either case, the doctor is telling your family of your condition right now — "

_What?_

"You'll have to sign papers agreeing to keep silent — a government official will come in to explain that tomorrow, so we need to keep you overnight. Oh, and we connected your emergency contact —" She looked over to her paperwork — "a Yoh Miyagi? Is he your partner?"

Shinobu could only continue to stare. This was all some horrible dream — his family had no idea what was going on between him and Miyagi, and he had no intention of changing that anytime soon. Any moment, he'd wake up from this nightmare of this bizarre hospital that told his family things without his permission and a sickness that couldn't possible exist.

"Takatsuki-san?"

It wasn't happening. He wasn't waking up. He wasn't asleep, he wasn't dreaming — this was real. It had to be, he knew it was — there was too much sensation, too much. He wanted to curl up and cry, or run away, just be anywhere than here.

"Get Miyagi," he said, staring at the nurse. She didn't budge. "Go!" he said, and she ran off, leaving him to stare at the ceiling as he waited.

When the door opened again, he heard the footsteps he knew were Miyagi's, though they sounded lighter then normal, like he was nervous. He heard the man sit down, but didn't turn to look at him. He couldn't. Not like this.

"Shinobu-chin," Miyagi said, and Shinobu wanted to cry; his eyelids stung, but he produced no tears, probably due to the dehydration. He felt Miyagi's hand — large and with the light callouses of too many nights with a pen or at a computer, correcting papers — wrap around his own and squeeze.

"Miyagi," he finally said, looking at him, his voice choked up with the tears he couldn't shed. He didn't know what to say.

"Whatever you decide, I'm here, okay?" Miyagi said, and Shinobu wanted to rip out his IVs and curl up next to him, in his lap, lie his head down on his chest and just breath for awhile, not thinking. But he couldn't, so instead he just nodded, and turned his head to the side.

He couldn't run away, but he could at least try to sleep. He closed his eyes.

* * *

Shinobu was sleeping, and Miyagi was worried.

Healthwise, Shinobu was fine, besides, of course, for the fetus growing inside him.

The thought was not one Miyagi ever thought he would have about Shinobu, and that alone was terrifying.

In the past, when Miyagi had been in relationships with women, he had thought about what would happen if, despite all the cautions they took, a partner ended up pregnant. He'd ultimately decided it would be up to the woman to decide what to do, and he'd offer support either way. Luckily, that situation had never come to pass... well, up til now.

Sort of. It was different, because it was Shinobu. Not just that Shinobu was a man going through this, though he was certain that factored into this somehow, but because Shinobu was _Shinobu_. No matter what happened, things were going to change, and they'd both have to face them. Together.

There was a light rapping on the door, and Miyagi turned to see it slowly creak open. Standing in the doorway was Shinobu's mother, her figure backlit by the brighter light coming from the hallway. She didn't say anything, just walked forward and stood by her son's bedside, gazing at him as he slept.

"In all my years, I never thought I'd spend my sixtieth birthday with my pregnant son in the hospital."

Miyagi didn't have anything to say to that. As it was, his mouth was strangely dry. Without turning to look at him, she said, "You are aware my son is seventeen years your junior, yes?"

Miyagi blinked. "Yes."

"A college student?"

"Yes."

"Your ex-wife's brother?"

"I know."

"Your boss's only son?"

"I know."

She paused for a moment. "You thought of all that, did you?"

"I did. I pointed it all out to him, multiple times. But Shinobu didn't care about all that." He swallowed. "And in the end, I didn't either."

Shinobu's mother said nothing at first, just continued staring at the sleeping Shinobu. Then, "But you couldn't have thought of this happening."

"Well, no." He shrugged. "Could anyone?"

Again, there was a moment of silence before Shinobu's mother spoke. "Tell Shinobu that no matter the choice he makes, I will offer whatever help and support I can for him. And while I can't claim to read my husband's mind... tell Shinobu he'll do the same, as well." She looked at Miyagi. "I can't say I know about what will happen with your job, though."

"That's fine. To be honest, that was more than I expected, really."

"You shouldn't expect so little of us." With that, she took one last look at Shinobu and left.

A few minutes later, when she was well out of earshot, Miyagi heard a familiar voice say, "Mom can be so ridiculously formal sometimes."

He jumped lightly in his seat, then turned to look at Shinobu, who stared back at him.

"Shinobu-chin! I thought you were asleep," he said.

Shinobu rolled his eyes. "Can't you tell the difference between a person really sleeping and a person only _pretending_ to sleep?" From his tone, Miyagi could tell there was a definite unspoken _idiot_ implied to the end of that sentence.

"You pretended to sleep for an entire hour?" Miyagi said. It had been at least that long.

"What are you talking about? You've only been here for, like, ten minutes."

He snorted. "You must have feel asleep at some point; I've been sitting in this chair for an hour, Shinobu-chin, at least."

Shinobu just glared at him, but then his expression softened. "Miyagi —"

"I thought you were asleep."

They both turned toward the door to see Risako entering the room.

"I woke up," Shinobu said. "Why are you still here, anyway?"

Risako rolled her eyes. "Can't I be concerned for my little brother?"

Shinobu just glared at her. "No."

"I'll have you know I stayed with you the entire time after I got the key to the bathroom. I kept trying to wake you up, but you were out cold."

"Really...?" His gaze softened, and his ears flushed pink. "Uh, thanks, I guess."

Risako just sighed. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that whatever mom says goes double for me, okay?"

Shinobu didn't say anything, just flushed deeper, clearly pleased. Miyagi eyed Risako; he had his own doubts about that statement, somehow, but he shook it off.

"Anyway, I'll leave you alone with this idiot." She gestured at Miyagi. "I'm sure you have you have a lot of talking to do."

"May I remind you that you willing married 'this idiot'?" Miyagi said, affronted.

"Clearly, I was temporarily devoid of my sanity when I made that decision."

"You do you realize you just insulted your precious little brother's sanity, right?" he replied.

"You do realize you just willingly called yourself an idiot a few seconds ago?" Miyagi was about to point out he was quoting her, but decided to be the maturer person and not say anything. Or something like that, anyway. "Anyway, see you two later," Risako said, and she left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Why didn't you defend my intelligence against either of them?" Miyagi muttered, turning to Shinobu, but lost all annoyance when he looked at Shinobu's face. He had this adorable expression, the kind where he looked like his eyes were about to water over with a cascade of tears, and Miyagi couldn't bring himself to stay mad at a face like that. He reached over and pulled Shinobu close to him, letting Shinobu sob his "manly tears" into his shirt.

"Miyagi," he mumbled, his voice slightly hoarse, "is this fate?"

He snorted. "You're the one who believes in that stuff, not me."

"I don't _believe_, I just _know_." His voice was indignant. He moved his face to look up at Miyagi. "I just having difficulties making hard choices," he mumbled.

"You have difficulties making hard choices? You, who make the decision to go after a man seventeen years your senior?"

"That wasn't a choice, that was fate," Shinobu said, his voice completely serious.

He decided not to argue the point. "Well, I'll be here all night, okay?" Shinobu mumbled something about how that was obvious, but his cheeks were pink again and he looked strangely happy about it.

Shinobu didn't talk to him the rest of the night, but in the early hours of the morning he shook him awake.

"I'm keeping the baby," he said. "It's destiny."

"Of course," Miyagi said. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by that answer at all.


	13. Chapter 8, Part 1: Egoist

**Last revised 2 September 2012.**

**Egoist will have a cameo in the Romantica chapter that follows this one, in the second scene. **

**Chapter title this time is from Coldplay's "Talk". **

**This chapter will be split into two parts due to length.**

**Other than that, I lost some of the second scene, so I'm not that happy about how I ended it. Anyway.**

* * *

Chapter 8: I'm So Scared About the Future and I Want to Talk to You

Even though he'd only been off work for not even a month, Hiroki was slowly losing his mind.

It wasn't that he missed work or working with that idiot Miyagi - the same idiot that had, as he'd learned only a day ago when Miyagi had called him to whine, cursed the dean's kid with the same condition Hiroki had, which wouldn't have happened if the idiot had listened to Hiroki for once, so who knew if he was even going to be his boss when he got back. He didn't miss throwing things at sleeping students, though every once in a while that was intensely satisfying. He was used to having this time of year off, and if he started going stir crazy every year with this little time off, he wouldn't be in a profession that involved long breaks.

The problem was that Hiroki was housebound.

At this point in his pregnancy, it was getting ridiculously hard to hide, and people's lack of notice at this point was due to the fact that most people didn't know men _could_ get pregnant. It was a lot safer - and easier - for Hiroki to stay inside as much as possible from this point of the pregnancy on. He didn't have a car, so it wasn't as though he could use private transport, though Akihiko had offered to drive Hiroki around if needed - he was already driving that idiot partner of his around to visit family and friends, apparently. Still, the fact was that for the next four months or so Hiroki was mostly going to being seeing the same rooms, furniture, and walls every day, without much variety. Even if right now he wasn't restless, he knew he was _going_ to be, and that was enough to drive him up the wall.

Even worse, after the baby was born, it wasn't as though he'd get an incredible amount of time outside then, either - schlepping a baby around Tokyo was not an entertaining prospect. Even when the next school year rolled around, he had no idea if he'd be able to start working - he could technically take more time off then just next term, and he might need to, since Nowaki was officially becoming a fully-fledged doctor this April, which meant it would look bad if he took so much time directly afterwords.

Officially, the government had required their place of employment to offer them a year and two months off between the two of them, and they were doing so, but why they took off didn't matter so much in the minds of their employers and coworkers, just that they had. It could be incredibly detrimental to both their careers.

Right now, however, he was trying to block all those worries out of his mind, and concentrate on finding a book to read. Nowaki had offered to buy him more as soon as he was able, but he'd been working so many hours lately that he hadn't had any time. So all he had were books he'd already read, and while that was all well and good, he was wanting to read something he hadn't before. Thus he was working his way through the room he had full of books, hoping he'd bought some book and forgotten he had done so later. Which had never happened before, of course, but there was a first time for everything.

The sound of a ringing phone suddenly stopped his search. Managing his way out of the pile of books, he picked up his cell phone to see it was Akihiko who had decided to call him.

"What do you want?" he said into the receiver.

"Is that any way to greet your dearest friend?"

He rolled his eyes, then realized Akihiko couldn't see him. "Whatever. Why are you calling?"

"Misaki is having a birthday party on the eighteenth — this Saturday — and I wanted to invite you and your partner to come."

Hiroki paused for a moment. "You could have just invited me in two days. You _are_ still bringing me to my appointment, yes?"

"Your OB appointment? Yes, I'm driving you there and back. I just thought I'd invite you before I forgot."

"Okay, fine, Nowaki and I will be there. I don't know why the kid would want me there, though."

"He doesn't. There's only so many people we can invite, though — "

Oh, right. Because of the ordinance. "Whatever. Just bring me new books when you see me in two days, okay? I'm dying for some new reading material."

"I should have a new manuscript by then you can edit for me." There was a pause. "You read all the books in your apartment?"

"As far I know, yes."

"Even the medical ones?"

_The medical ones...? Oh, Nowaki's medical books_. "You idiot, those aren't literature!"

"Well, you said you were _dying_ for something to read."

Before Hiroki could yell at him for being deliberately annoying, he heard the sound of a door opening and Nowaki's call of "I'm home!"

"Welcome home!" he called back, hand over the receiver, and then continued speaking to Akihiko.

"Listen, Nowaki's home, so I'll talk to you again in two days time, okay?"

"Fine, fine, I'll go molest Misaki. Goodbye."

_Molest...? _Hiroki just shook his head. There were many times he didn't want to know what was going on in his childhood friend's brain; this one of them.

"Who were you taking to, Hiro-san?" Nowaki said as he made his way into the main living area.

"Akihiko. He invited us to his brat partner's birthday party on the eighteenth." Nowaki had large dark circles under his eyes; the man was being overworked, and he even had a twelve-hour shift tomorrow. At least he had off for the next few days after that.

"Oh, okay, we can go if you want."

"Why not? It's not like I can get out much anyway."

"Hmm," Nowaki said, opening the fridge to find something to heat up for dinner. "About that: I was thinking I should buy a car. It would make things easier."

"Can you afford it?" Hiroki was pretty sure Nowaki's idea to buy a car was due to some level of jealousy from having Akihiko being the one to take him places. He'd detected some hostility when he mentioned Akihiko would be the one to drive him to his obstetrician appointments from now on, but hadn't bothered to comment on it. "Wait - can you even drive?"

"I think I can afford it," he said, taking some leftovers out from the fridge. He put them in the microwave and clicked in the time. "As for driving... well, I can learn. It's a very useful skill."

Hiroki raised an eyebrow. "When will you have time to learn to drive? I can't teach you when I'm like this..."

Nowaki looked at him in surprise. Hiroki mentally went over what he'd just said and blanched. "You know how to drive, Hiro-san?"

"Yes, but before you ask — I learned when I was eighteen, because Akihiko did, and I haven't driven since."He only learned because he was annoyed at Akihiko having a license when he didn't.

"That's great, though!" Nowaki exclaimed as the microwave signaled it was done. "I'll just quit the job at the flower shop, and then I'll have enough time to take lessons. Then when the baby's born, I can help you refresh your skills."

"You still have the job at the flower shop? But you're working twelve-hour shifts!"

"Well, it's been awhile since he's needed me, actually, but I haven't formally quit yet," Nowaki said, searching for dinnerware to eat his dinner, and before Hiroki could point out that that meant he didn't have time to free up, since he really wasn't working at the flower shop know anyway, he continued, "That said, a car would be really useful. Because... if it's the three of us, we might stand out a bit on the public transport, y'know?"

Hiroki paused for a moment. Nowaki was probably being paranoid. There was no reason for people to think that if two men had a child with them they were the parents of the child, especially since the whole male pregnancy thing wasn't well known. Even if they did, somehow, they'd probably just ignore them, at worst give them a disapproving look. There hadn't been any more cases of pregnant males being murdered, and last he heard, in the one case the murder's motive was looking to have nothing to with the pregnancy. Especially with the ordiance enacted that kept it a secret.

Still. It couldn't hurt to be extra-cautious.

"If you're really want to buy a car, I'm not going to stop you," he said, finally, and Nowaki looked up from his dinner to smile brightly at him.

"Thank you, Hiro-san!" he said. Then he looked thoughtful for a moment. "We're going to need to start paying for a parking space..."

Hiroki just sighed. It had been useless to protest in the first place. Nowaki ultimately did as he liked, and Hiroki always somehow just went with him.

_That's not a pleasant thought_.

If there was one thing Nowaki wasn't expecting to see when he returned home from work the next day it was Hiroki on the floor, gazing at a book and looking horribly distressed. Books in general weren't the type of thing to upset Hiroki, rather the opposite, so for a moment he wondered if he'd entered a parallel universe.

He shook it off, however - enough strange things had happened that he decided he really shouldn't be surprised.

"Hiro-san, are you okay?"

Hiroki made a startled motion before slamming the book closed - it looked strangely familiar, Nowaki noticed.

"No-nowaki! Welcome home!" he stuttered, his cheeks filling with a rosy blush as he attempted to sneak the book away from view, which only made Nowaki more suspicious.

"Hiro-san, what were you reading?"

"I wasn't reading anything!"

This only made Nowaki more curious, so he gently wrestled the book out of Hiroki's hands - he had a light grip on it, almost like he wanted Nowaki to see what it was, despite his actions indicating otherwise. Nowaki looked at the book in his hand - it _felt _shiny, like a new textbook - and immediately knew what had upset Hiroki so much.

"I don't think reading _An Illustrated Guide to Rare and Often Terrible Neonatal Disorders and Birth Defects_ while you're pregnant is the best decision you ever made, Hiro-san." Actually, reading that book at anytime was a bad decision. There was a rumor among med students that said book was a way to weed out the weak and squeamish, and Nowaki had hid it amongst his med books, hoping to never see it again - he would have sold it, but the new edition had just come out, and from what he understood, it was less graphic, and really, he'd feel guilty even giving that book away. "If it makes you feel any better, I talked to a obstetrician not long after I took the class that required the book, and he claimed that the most common defect mentioned in there he'd only ever seen twice in his twenty year career, and it wasn't even the worst of the lot."

"But they do exist," he said, eying the book with a strange mixture of fear and contempt.

"Well, yes," he said, and got down on the floor, pulling Hiroki close to him.

"Idiot! I'm fine!" Hiroki whispered fiercely, but made no movement to get away as Nowaki stroked his hair.

"If you were really desperate to read something, Hiro-san, there were a lot better books you could pick," he said, making a mental note to put the one he had been reading far out of reach.

Hiroki didn't say anything, not even when Nowaki pressed his lips to his neck, but he found he didn't mind the latter, because Hiroki's hands were willing to talk quite nicely for him.


	14. Chapter 8, Part 2: Egoist

"Where is he?" Hiroki wondered out loud again, checking his watch. Akihiko was supposed to have met them in the parking lot to their apartment complex five minutes ago, and still there was no sight of his red sports car.

"Now, Hiro-san, don't be so impatient," Nowaki said, his tone conveying some amusement at his behavior. "Tokyo is a traffic heavy city. I'm sure he'll be here in a few minutes."

"I just don't want to be late to the appointment, that's all," he mumbled. Nowaki had taken the day off, and Hiroki didn't want to waste any of the time they could spend doing other things. _Stupid hormones, making me emotional..._

Akihiko's red car pulled up at that moment, cutting off any further conversation.

"Finally!" Hiroki called out as Akihiko got out of the car, walking towards them. "Akihiko, where were you?"

Akihiko raised an eyebrow. "It's not even ten minutes past when I scheduled to pick you two up."

Before Hiroki could say anything, Nowaki began, "I was thinking of getting a car to take Hiro-san places myself. What kind do you have Usami-san? A Mercedes?"

Akihiko shot a strange look at Nowaki, as though he was a little off his rocker for asking that question. "It's a Ferrari, actually." He looked at Hiroki, giving him a questioning glance.

Hiroki rolled his eyes. "And a ridiculous case of overspending, too. I don't see why you had to get that flashy thing when a cheaper model would work just the same." At that, Nowaki stopped looking at Akihiko's car with any interest, but looked over at Hiroki and nodded, as though agreeing with him. Well, at least he'd persuaded the idiot from feeling as though he needed to buy an insanely expensive sports car to prove his worth. Or something.

"You just don't have the exquisite taste to appreciate such a fine work of art, Hiroki," Akihiko said, clearly affronted.

Hiroki just ignored him and walked towards the car, opening the passenger-side door at the front of the car and preparing to get in.

"Be careful, there's not much room in there," Akihiko said, and Hiroki blinked at the sheer amount of books he saw in the piled high in the front seat. "It might be better for both of you to sit in the back."

"How come you have so many books, anyway?" Hiroki asked as he and Nowaki got into the car and strapped themselves in, books crowding around both their feet.

"Why, those are for you, Hiroki," Akihiko said, closing the front door and strapping himself in. "There's more in the trunk. You said you were out of reading material, didn't you?"

Hiroki felt his face heat up. "Bakahiko, you didn't have to get me so many!"

"It must have cost quite a bit," Nowaki said beside him, and he could feel the tension radiating off him. Hiroki wanted to smack his head against the door - of course Nowaki would see Akihiko's tendency to overspend like he was building Versailles as a challenge. _It's not about me, he does this for everyone and doesn't even think about the cost, because he has no sense of not having money for want of anything._ He tried to telepathically send this message to Nowaki, but his lack of psychic powers was not helping him out in this instance.

"I didn't really notice," Akihiko said, and Hiroki almost winced. "I just figured if I got him as many as possible, he wouldn't whine so much when I call about being bored."

"You're bored, Hiro-san? I could take more days off work."

"No, no, that's fine - you need to work now, you can get away with taking more off later easier that way. I can just reread whatever I have, I'm fine." Nowaki made a small noise of annoyance at this, but didn't say anything more. Hiroki looked over to find him pouting.

"Well, we're here," Akihiko said as they pulled into a parking garage near the building where the obstetrician's office was located. He didn't even bother to check the parking fee, just entered and parked the car in a spot nearest an elevator. "You guys go - call me when you get out, Hiroki."

"What are you going to do, Usami-san?" Nowaki asked as they exited the car.

"I have to buy a gift for Misaki - oh, that reminds me." He turned towards Hiroki. "I got a present for you to give to Misaki - some suspense novel. It's in with the rest of the books - I'll show you it when I bring you two home."

"The kid actually _wants_ a book?" Hiroki asked as they waited for the elevator. He remembered the kid - he had fallen asleep in his class more than once, though, in retrospect, he was sure Akihiko had something to do with that.

"Well, no, but it was the only thing I could think of he'd been comfortable getting from you, and the only thing you'd feel was worth giving," Akihiko said. The elevator arrived. "Anyway, he likes suspense shows, so it's worth a shot." He pressed the button for the ground floor to exit out to the street, then for one two floors up, which was the level adjacent to the doctor's office. Thankfully, the elevator began moving downwards first.

"Doesn't he work for Marukawa? How does he not like books?" Hiroki said, as he watched the number change above the door.

"He likes manga." Hiroki snorted and rolled his eyes. He never had liked those silly half-novels; this was only proving his point. The door opened, and both Nowaki and Hiroki got out.

"See you, Usami-san," Nowaki said a little to cheerfully as the doors closed, then turned to look at Hiroki."He really does care for that Misaki, doesn't he? Buying him a present he knows he might like just so you won't give him anything he doesn't?"

Hiroki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Y_es, Akihiko is completely devoted to Misaki, just like I'm completely devoted to you, idiot._ He definitely wasn't going to say _that_ out loud. "Let's go, we're going to be late," he said instead, and Nowaki didn't say anything, just happily followed behind him.

* * *

"Before we begin the ultrasound, I need to know if you want to know the baby's sex."

Nowaki looked at Hiroki. He'd been looking anxious all through the appointment with Hayashi-sensei; he had a feeling Hiroki just wanted to get things over with. The medical book he'd read probably hadn't helped the anticipation at all. As it was, Nowaki didn't care what the sex was, as long as the baby was healthy, so when Hiroki shot him a questioning glance, he answered with a shrug. _It's your decision to make, Hiro-san_.

"Yeah, okay, I'd - we'd like to know the sex," Hiroki told the doctor, and she gave a small smile in response.

"Very good. I need you to lie back, Kamijou-san." Hiroki grumbled a bit but shifted his position as the obstetrician prepped herself to begin the ultrasound. She reminded Nowaki of the time he'd observed a surgeon for a requirement; for some reason, the resemblance between the two procedures made him shiver.

She lifted up Hiroki's shirt, revealing his protruding abdomen. "Now, I'm going to put the ultrasound gel on you; it'll be cold, so don't be startled, okay?"

"Just get it over with," he mumbled, averting his eyes away, his cheeks blushing red. For a moment, Nowaki felt a moment of annoyance at some else seeing - and causing - such a cute expression to form on his beloved's face, but it soon dissipated once the ultrasound clicked on and an image began to form on screen. "Looks healthy," the obstetrician said, and Nowaki could only stare in wonder. He'd seen ultrasounds of fetuses before, of course, in textbooks and once during his residency when he had to help perform one on a sickly pregnant woman when they were low on staff, but this was different: this was Hiroki's, and his, and that made a world of difference.

"Uh, what exactly are we looking at?" Hiroki said, and Nowaki turned to look him. He had the slightest blush on his cheeks, obviously embarrassed at being the only one there without appropriate medical knowledge to understand the ultrasound.

"Oh! You see, Hiro-san, over here is an arm - " he said as he gestured to the relevant spot on the ultrasound. Hayashi-sensei coughed lightly. He blushed. "Oh, sorry!" He didn't mean to take over her job!

She laughed lightly. "It's fine, I'm just not use to first time parents who know how to read an ultrasound," she said, and Nowaki felt a warmth in his heart at the words "first time parents" referring to Hiroki and him. The obstetrician looked over at Hiroki. "Now, Kamijou-san, as Kusama-san said, this -" she pointed to where Nowaki had been pointing, "is an arm, the right one. The left arm is over here, and the left leg is here." She continued to point out various body parts on the scan, Hiroki nodding along all the while. His face was strangely blank - no huge showcases of emotion, or telltale signs of his thoughts, like he often had on his face. He'd reacted like that to the heartbeat as well, however, so Nowaki really wasn't surprised.

"So, what sex is it?" Hiroki asked, and Hayashi-sensei turn her gaze from Hiroki to him.

"Kusama-san, would you like to try to read the gender on the scan?" she asked, and he looked at it again. It was nice of her to offer, but he didn't know if he'd be able to tell; the ability to even tell the baby's sex was based on the baby's position, and it involved looking to see if something was or wasn't there. Fetal ultrasounds weren't his specialty by any means, but if he had to guess he'd say -

"Female?" Hayashi-sensei nodded her head.

"Yes, going by the scans I'd say what we have here is a baby girl. Congratulations to you both."

Nowaki could only smile at her. He would have been fine either way, but it was nice to know. At the

very least they knew what names to focus on now for their daughter.

Their daughter. His and Hiroki's. He liked that thought.

"Thank you," he told Hayashi-sensei, and Hiroki grunted his thanks, then asked if he could get up yet.

She laughed. "Of course! Just let me wipe up the gel, then you're good to go."

Nowaki took care of scheduling the next appointment for two weeks later and the same time while Hiroki called Usami to pick them up. He really didn't have a problem with Usami, not since he'd discovered the exact relationship between the man and his housemate, but it was hard _not_ to be jealous of someone with a bank accountant consisting of billions of yen, especially when that person was his lover's childhood friend and once unrequited love.

They met Usami down by his car; he had a large shopping bag with him that he placed in the front seat, securely setting in between two smaller bags of books. Nowaki and Hiroki shared the back seat again; Hiroki put on his glasses, picked up one of the books in the back, examined it for a moment, than opened it up and started to read.

"How did the appointment go?" Usami asked, and Nowaki felt it his duty to reply; Hiroki had started reading, and disturbing him while he had a book in front of him was akin to poking sticks into a hornet's nest and a beehive at the same time.

"We're having a girl," he said, since that was probably what Usamiwas curious about.

"So they say," Hiroki said, mumbling as he continued staring at the page in front of him; Nowaki blinked and turned to look at him - he hadn't realized he was listening.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Then a momentary terror seized him. "Do you not want a girl?"

"No, no, that's not it. It's just... the ultrasound looked strange. And blurry. I didn't really believe it."

Nowaki just stared at him. He hadn't expected that. "What do you mean 'you didn't believe it'? It's an

ultrasound; what's there to believe?"

Hiroki sighed and picked his head up from reading, then looked at him. "It's just... well, the image wasn't really clear. It felt almost like it depended on too much interpretation."

"It's not a Rorschach Test, Hiro-san. They know what they're looking at."

Hiroki shifted in seat and frowned. "See, this is why I didn't say anything when we were there. I know that. It's just... I don't know, I need to see it for myself." He paused for a moment, then added, "_without_ someone telling me whats' there."

"In all fairness, they told Misaki's parents they were having a girl before he was born," Usami said, interrupting their conversation. For some reason, he was smirking at this; Nowaki didn't really want to ask why.

"It's not just that," Hiroki said. "It's not just the sex. It's more like I didn't really think the ultrasound looked like a baby."

Nowaki wasn't quite sure what to say to that; luckily, he didn't have to, as Usami choose to say something instead. "Well, it being _you_, Hiroki, I wouldn't be surprised if the child was an alien from Mars."

Hiroki went red at this, dropping his book and glaring at Usami. "If my child was from Mars, yours would be from Neptune!"

"That's good, I like Neptune," Usami deadpanned, and Hiroki looked about ready to smack Usami over the head, which, really, Nowaki thought might just be a good idea.

"But, Hiro-san, I still don't understand what you mean by the confusion over the ultrasound."

Hiroki looked about to answer, but Usami-san interrupted again. "Hiroki's just the type of person who will understand what's happening, but he won't fully accept everything until he has the baby in physically in his arms - at which point, of course, she'll cry, forever traumatized by his horrendously ugly face."

"Bakahiko!" Hiroki shouted as Nowaki tried to decide what he was more upset over - Usami insulting Hiroki or Usami understanding just what Hiroki meant when he did not.

"Hiro-san is very cute," he decided to say, in part to get Hiroki to pay attention to him. Hiroki looked at him, face flushing red as he gave Nowaki a look that he probably thought was threatening but was actually quite adorable.

"No one's cuter than Misaki," Usami muttered, and Nowaki took that as a sign of Usami-san signaling that he wasn't a threat to their relationship and very happy in his own rather than as a challenge, because if he took it as a latter, the argument would never end.

"What did you think of the ultrasound when you saw Misaki's, Akihiko? Didn't it look weird to you?" Hiroki was apparently attempting to bring the topic back to less embarrassing territory.

Some emotion passed over Usami's face, but it was hard to tell what. "I felt the same way about it that I did about the heartbeat," he said, but didn't elaborate, and a quick look at Hiroki indicated he had no idea what Usami meant by that, either.

"We're here," Usami announced, ending all any further contemplation of the subject at hand, and he pulled into the parking lot. "They gave me a parking pass for the day; let me help you get some of these books up."

_Well, good, because you brought them_, Nowaki thought but didn't say, and collected some of the paperbacks in a small bag for Hiroki to carry. Usami singled out the book he told them to give Takahashi - he had put a bookmark between the pages, one with a design of, for some reason, a rabbit holding a flower - and helped haul the books upstairs. It took a few trips to get them all up, and Nowaki thought they'd never had enough room to fit them all, but Hiroki seemed happy to be surrounded by such shiny new books, and, really, Nowaki couldn't complain.

"Consider this an early birthday present," Usami said before he left, Hiroki yelling that his birthday wasn't until September at the closing door.

"I think we have wrapping paper from your mother's birthday last month in the book room, let me go check," Nowaki said as Hiroki settled down with a book in one of the softest chairs in the living room; he hadn't taken off his glasses from when he put them on the car. Hiroki just nodded, humming softly as he began to read, looking genuinely happy.

Nowaki just sighed, shaking his head. Whatever made Hiroki happy. As he walked into the book room to look for the wrapping paper, he realized something.

This was the only extra room in the house, and therefore the only one suitable for a nursery.

Considering Hiroki's reading habits... and the amount of books he'd probably buy for their daughter as soon as she was born... and the way Hiroki's mother would probably spoil her with toys and things, even if they tried to get her not to...

They were going to need a bigger apartment.

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	15. Chapter 9: Romantica

**So in case you didn't read the last chapter or the one before it: I apologize for the lateness of this – school/medical stuff/traveling got in the way. Usagi makes an appearance in the last chapter quite often – in all but the second scene.**

**Next Romantica chapter is 12 (number 19 on the drop down menu)**

**Smut this chapter, in the first and third scenes.**

**Title comes from "Come On, Get Higher" by Matt Nathanson.**

* * *

Chapter 9: Faith and Desire and the Swing of your Hips

The hormones from the pregnancy, it turned out, caused something Misaki did not expect.

He was horny.

It was not an adjective he'd ever thought he'd apply to himself, but lately he had been craving sex more than he ever had before. He spent his days feeling full of desire, wanting so desperately to just grab Usagi-san and be fucked - or fuck him, he wasn't really picky - senseless. Yet he was too embarrassed to bring himself to do anything, so he just spent the days unsatisfied.

Even when it came to the sex Usagi initiated, he was finding it wasn't enough. It wasn't as though it was bad - it helped to abate the wild, frenzied lust running through him - but it was far too gentle, suddenly. He wanted it feral and rough and primal, but he had no idea how to go about changing things, because he'd never wanted to before.

As of now, he was cooking dinner, salmon with deep fried rice, and all he could think about was one of the times Usagi had fucked him in the car. His breath on his neck, his lips on his nipples, his tongue on his cock, then his cock thrusting inside of him - he was reliving it, as though that might sate him. It didn't - jerking off didn't seem to help much either - but he couldn't seem to get himself to not think about it. It was getting to the point he was seriously contemplating reading Usagi's BL novels, to see if that would help.

"I'm home," Usagi called out, interrupting Misaki from his thoughts.

"Welcome home," Misaki called out, and took a moment to check on the food before determining he could leave it alone for a few minutes. He walked into the living room. "How is Kamijou-sensei?"

"Fine, it turns out he's having a girl," Usagi replied.

"Oh." Misaki had opted not to learn the sex of the baby from ultrasounds. Considering his own name had been the result of a mistaken assignment of sex before he was born, he didn't put too much stock in the accuracy of ultrasounds in determining sex.

Usagi walked up to Misaki and pulled him towards him, embracing him.

"I missed you today," he said, smirking, and Misaki could feel his answering blush.

"Idiot Usagi!" he said, but made no movement to get away. In fact, he leaned into the touch. He felt as though he couldn't get his body close enough to Usagi's.

Usagi must have noticed something was up, because he said, "I'll take that you missed me to." Then he pressed his lips against a sensitive spot on Misaki's neck, causing him to moan.

Misaki shifted his body to allow him better access, _and damn that felt good_. He continued to move his clothed cock against Usagi's, faster and faster, desperate to keep up the friction that was making him so hard. Usagi, for what it's worth, didn't seem to mind this at all, moaning with an intensity Misaki wasn't sure he'd ever before, his grip on Misaki's shirt tightening as Misaki's movements quickened in pace.

Usagi was panting, gasping, his body shivering against him. Misaki looked into his lover's eyes to see them glazed over with pleasure. He came at the sight, hard and fast, and Usagi gave one final groan before Misaki felt him follow soon after.

After a few moments, Misaki collected himself. The feeling of come in his pants was uncomfortable, but he could wait for a few minutes before he changed them. Usagi was still breathing heavy, his grip on Misaki's shirt still holding strong.

"Usagi-san?" he said.

"Misaki," Usagi replied, then looked down at him, smiling. "This 'increased libido' side effect is a wonderful thing."

"Idiot Usagi!" he cried out, then smelled the air. Something smelled weird. "Shit, the food!"

"I could always have you for dinner instead," Usagi said, and Misaki nearly cursed the resulting shiver down his spine.

For once, he really wouldn't mind that.

_Damn hormones._

* * *

"Isn't the person having the birthday supposed to be the one relaxing? Especially when he's five months pregnant?"

Akihiko looked over at Takahiro, who seemed to be marveling at his brother's drive and tenacity at hosting a birthday party for himself while pregnant. Manami was bouncing Mahiro on her lap while talking to Hiroki's partner; Hiroki, meanwhile, was having an involved argument with Aikawa and a pregnant Isaka about the merits of graphic novels, with Isaka's partner watching the whole thing with mild amusement. Misaki was in the kitchen, and his friend Toudou had joined him awhile ago; they we're talking adamantly about that manga he liked while Misaki frosted the elaborate cake.

"I tried telling him that, but he wouldn't listen," he replied.

Takahiro nodded. "He always does try to take on more than he needs to - I tried to help, but he refused." He frowned, then looked at Misaki again, watching him mix frosting while adamantly talking to his friend. "I'm going to offer again." For a moment, Akihiko considered telling him it was useless, but then shrugged it off - Misaki wasn't the only Takahashi who had a tendency to put others before himself, often to a fairly extreme extent. Arguing with Takahiro would be as fruitless as arguing with Misaki about what, exactly, he should be doing at his own birthday party.

Hiroki apparently had finished arguing - or, more likely, had given up due to sheer frustration - because he made his over to Akihiko, flopping onto the plush chair Takahiro had just vacated. He looked really annoyed, but that was fairly typical for Hiroki.

Of course, this was a fine opportunity to make him even more annoyed.

"Your mother keeps sending us peaches, you know," he told him, watching his reaction with a carefully-schooled bored expression, "and plums. Not sure where she's getting the last ones, to be honest; I'm pretty sure plums are out of season by now."

"I'm not sure where she gets them all," Hiroki said, "she's been sending them to me, too."

"Actually she keeps addressing them to me," Nowaki said, looking up from his conversation. Hiroki flushed and began to stammer nonsense.

"Why is it that your mother sends so much to everyone but her son? She must be so disappointed in you - after all, it was Misaki who first told her her future grandchild is a girl."

If Hiroki had been red before, he had become a stream train now, though one without movement - that is, utterly harmless. "What are you talking about - If you - "

A shot of nervous laughter interrupted Hiroki's blustering tirade. Misaki stood behind the couch, blushing and clearly embarrassed, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. "That would be my fault. Your mom called yesterday and I kinda told her - in all fairness, I had no reason to believe you hadn't already."

Nowaki said something about how, really, it was kinda Hiroki's fault, and Hiroki spluttered some sort of excuse for not telling his mother, but Akihiko was far more interested in Misaki's sudden appearance in the living room.

"Is the cake done?" he asked. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Mahiro perk up at the word 'cake'.

Misaki flushed. "Uh, no, I just came out here to ask Manami something." Manami turned around to look at him, and Misaki leaned in to whisper something - though Misaki was never good at controlling his volume, he thought with a smirk. Really, he could hear from here - though it probably helped he was so familiar with his speech patterns. And was, to some extent, straining to hear him.

"It's just... well... the, er, kicking - does it feel like a fluttering sensation? Like butterflies?"

For some reason, Akihiko's heart sped up at those words. Manami looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, I'd say that sounds about right - ooh, Misaki-kun, is the baby kicking? Can I feel?"

The last part was entirely too loud, because Takahiro rushed over from the kitchen, eyes sparkling, clearly ready to play the both the part of doting brother and doting uncle. Misaki's friend teetered on the line of the floor where it changed from carpet to tile, looking unsure of just how he was supposed to react. Hiroki, clearly uncomfortable at the prospect of being near anyone attracting such attention, squirmed away from Misaki, while his boyfriend only looked mildly interested - it wasn't Hiroki, after all. Isaka and his partner kept to themselves, while Aikawa made her way towards the blushing Misaki.

"Now, now, don't crowd around him!" Manami announced, trying to make up for her mistake in attracting attention towards Misaki, though there were only a few people near him. Misaki didn't seem to pay much attention to anyone else except for Akihiko - he, looking pitifully frail, was staring at him like he was expecting something from him – what?

"I think it's about time for cake and presents - isn't it getting late?" Misaki said, his voice sounding strained and his smile more than a little fake, but then Mahiro started running excitedly to the kitchen at the prospect of something sweet, and the tension broke, everyone coming together to the dining table as Todou helped Misaki place the candles in the elaborate triple-tier black forest cake Misaki had made entirely by himself.

Toudou, Isaka, and Aikawa had all gotten him something related to that manga he was obsessed with, and Takahiro had bought him books of easy and quick recipes ("trust me, you'll need those"). The suspense novel Akihiko had chosen for Hiroki to give him meet with a slightly pained look, though it brightened up considerably when he realized it was the sequel to one he'd seen on TV, much to Hiroki's annoyance. After appraising the bookmark, he shot Akihiko a suspicious look, but Akihiko kept his face blank.

Then there was his final gift, the largest of the lot, which was of course from Akihiko. Misaki had a tendency to open gifts slowly, finding the place where the paper overlapped and carefully breaking the tape, which Akihiko thought was rather silly - what was the point of the wrapping paper being so thin if you didn't rip it off? - but also, like all the quirks Misaki had, strangely endearing. As it was, Akihiko had never been good at wrapping presents, so Misaki spent a ridiculous amount of time unwrapping his last present, much to his growing frustration. The annoyance disappeared, however, when he finally gazed upon his last birthday present.

"A Playstation 3?"

Akihiko smiled. "I thought you'd like to have something to do while your housebound for the next few months." He considered that statement for a moment, then smirked. "Well, when I'm busy, that is."

Misaki blushed. "Idiot Usagi!" he stammered, and Akihiko's smirk only widened. As much as Misaki protested otherwise, his mind went straight to the gutter quite easily.

Misaki seemed rather pleased with most of the games he'd picked out to go with the console - especially, much to Akihiko's irritation, the game based upon that stupid manga he liked. His reaction to the game based on the Junai series starring his doppelgänger was the opposite, with much spluttering and blushing and general adorableness, which helped Akihiko determine that the party was in fact over.

By the time Akihiko had managed to politely shoo all of the guests out of the apartment, Misaki had finished cleaning up and retired to their room. Which was good, since he'd been planning to take him there, anyway.

When he entered the room, Misaki was looking over the book Takahiro had gotten him, the one on quick and easy recipes. His face had one of those clouded looks on it, liking he was thinking of something he'd probably rather not, or at least something slightly troubling.

"Misaki."

Misaki jumped slightly, startled out of his reverie. "Ah, Usagi-san, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you open the door!"

"What are you looking at?" he asked as he slipped off his tie and began to uncuff his shirt, approaching his lover slowly.

Misaki looked back at the book. "Ah, nothing," he said, and put the book down on the bedstand. Suddenly, the expression on his face changed, some sort of expression that was both confusing and adorable. "Usagi-san." He edged towards him, grabbing his arm, stopping him from finishing unbuttoning his shirt. "You haven't felt the baby kicking yet."

Well, he really wasn't expecting that. For some reason, his throat went dry, and he found it difficult to swallow. "No, I haven't."

"Here," Misaki said, not even asking him if he wanted to as he placed his palm against his abdomen.

After one seemingly long moment in which his heart rate practically doubled, there was nothing.

"I might not be able to feel it this early," he pointed out, but then, almost as if in defiance of what he'd just said, he felt it - a small, light, but very definite, kick.

He wasn't sure how to react. There was too much threatening to overwhelm him, suddenly, so he just gently pulled his hand away, though Misaki looked a bit disappointed as he did so, and so he did what he knew he'd wanted to for awhile now, kissing Misaki and pressing him against the bed.

"You pervert," Misaki muttered, but that was about the only coherent thing he managed to say before he was overwhelmed by moans - louder than usual, which was saying something, and he was writhing and practically tearing his clothes off at the slightest touches. Akihiko smirked; these hormones definitely had their advantages.

* * *

Misaki watched Usagi's slow breathing as he lightly traced the muscles of his torso, unable to stop the desire that was rising within him. His cheeks burned red hot; he knew what he wanted, damnit, and it was getting to be too much. Even if he couldn't say it out loud, there wasn't really anything stopping him from pursuing it himself, right? Just this once...

Misaki's face continued to burn as he tried to think about anything other than what he was going to do. He needed this, he knew that, he was practically sick with the need for it, but it was still -

He steeled himself and rubbed one of Usagi's nipples, watching with fascination as it grew hard. Usagi made a slight noise, but just continued sleeping, so Misaki closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and bent down to lick one of Usagi's nipples.

The response was immediate; Usagi groaned out loud, his eyes fluttering open. "Misaki?" he mumbled, face formed in a expression of disbelief. Misaki didn't say anything; he felt a stirring of strange pleasure at the fact that Usagi was under his control, now, that he was the one doing as he pleased. He licked the nipple again, this time tweaking the other.

"Misaki," Usagi moaned, his voice more wanton than Misaki had ever heard it, and he felt a delightful shiver run through his own body in response. He moved his mouth downward, giving light kisses to Usagi's abdomen.

Usagi moaned his name again, though louder this time, then grabbed Misaki, pulling him forward for a bruising kiss. Misaki was annoyed; yes, the kiss was fantastic, but if Usagi took control, then this whole plan would go to waste. He ended the kiss and got off the bed, picked the tie from yesterday off the floor, then walked to the his dresser and took out another tie.

"Misaki?" Usagi asked, sounding both curious and wanting, and Misaki walked back to him, steeling his nerves. If he didn't do this, he'd never get what he wanted, and it was driving him mad. Mad enough to do this, anyway.

He grabbed Usagi's right arm and tied it to the corresponding bedpost with a fisherman's knot, a skill he'd learned when he went camping. The knot was known for being a very strong one, which, considering Usagi's drive and strength when it came to sex, was probably necessary to hold him back.

Usagi's breath was gaining speed as Misaki tied the other arm back, and he examined his handy work.

He felt himself become aroused at the sight of Usagi, shocked and panting, tied to the bed and his for the taking. He shook himself lightly. He didn't want to do anything to hurt Usagi -

"Is this okay?" he asked, fear starting to seize him. He needed this, badly, but he didn't want to -

Usagi laughed and Misaki relaxed. "Okay? Misaki this is _more_ than okay." He smirked and eyed Misaki with what could only be a look of pure, unadulterated lust.

Misaki felt his nerves again, but this time for an entirely different reason. "Good," he said, starting to feel shy. He walked forward and climbed onto the bed, straddling Usagi's hips. The man moaned out loud and Misaki bit his lip as his heart rate sped up. He could do this, dammit. He reached down and touched his lover's cock, fingering the slit, and the answering noise Usagi made, something deep and feral, gave him a new resolve. He squeezed lightly, then moved his hand up and down, smearing the pre-cum over the head. With his other hand he cupped the man's scrotum, and was delighted to see that Usagi was actually shaking, tears starting to form in his eyes. He swallowed; he could do this again, if this was Usagi's response to his ministrations: all open and wanting, shaking with noises he'd never heard before that lit a fire in his belly and at the base of his spine and all over his body.

He steeled himself and licked Usagi's cock, at the tip and then over the foreskin. He couldn't bring himself to do anymore - he was too embarrassed and needy, but the sounds Usagi made in response to that where like no other he heard before, and it gave him the courage to reach into himself, his fingers slick with Usagi's precome, and prepare himself as quickly as possible.

He didn't bother with lowering himself slowly, just quickly impaled himself on Usagi's cock, which caused the man to gasp and let out a curse. There was pain, more than he'd expected, and Misaki waited for a few moments to adjust before the need overwhelmed him again and he moved. Usagi called out his name, and then the rest of what he was said was completely incoherent to Misaki as his body felt as though it was a supernova, bursting into sparks of light. He swallowed slowly, trying to come back down to earth, and he moved as he did before, giving himself that incredible feeling again. He looked at Usagi, at him being overwhelmed, back arched and body ridden with sweat as hands formed fists that looked so tight Misaki feared they might bleed. Usagi looked him in the eye and he realized everything was worth it.

He moved up and down as fast as hard as he could, hands gripping Usagi's shoulders, trying to please the need in himself that had made him so desperate and wanting. He gripped himself to help with his impending orgasm and Usagi groaned again, bucked up and came inside him, causing him to follow and collapse against his lover.

"Usagi," he moaned as he moved himself, body humming pleasantly with the afterglow, need finally satiated. Usagi didn't say anything; his pupils were dilated and he was breathing fast, still in the last throes of his orgasm. He shuddered and his eyes started to refocus.

"Misaki," he said; his voice sounded hoarse. He looked at Misaki in absolute awe and wonder. Misaki smiled at him weakly then lifted himself off of Usagi, and untied his bindings.

"There," he said as he collapsed onto the bed, next to Usagi. He felt too lazy too cleanup, and even the feeling of Usagi's release leaking out of his body didn't bother him now. He just wanted to feel this satisfied forever.

Usagi said his name again, and suddenly the man was on top of him kissing him soundly. "I think you deserve a reward."

"Huh?" Misaki asked, confused. It was far too soon -

Suddenly, he felt the smooth feel of the silk tie against his left wrist, Usagi's hand lifting up his right as he tied them together.

"Usagi!" Misaki shouted. The man was insatiable! They'd just had -

He felt his wrists get affixed to the headboard. "Misaki, I'm going to fuck you into the mattress so hard you won't be able to walk straight for several days. Then I'm going to do it again."

Despite himself, Misaki moaned. _Damn hormones_; he was already feeling excited. He saw Usagi smirk before he kissed him hard, and realized he'd doomed himself.

He wished he actually minded.


	16. Chapter 10, Part 1: Terrorist

**Yep, I'm still around. Apologies, once again, for the lateness – medication issues cropped up, along with a surprisingly heavy class schedule (I'm taking math this term, which I haven't since Junior year of high school, and I'm suddenly remembering why). Also, a roommate I hadn't seen in so many months due to her studying abroad is back, and she occupies my time with her awesome friendship. Add in writer's block, and I'm afraid to say all I have at the moment to post is the first half of this (Tero) chapter – I'm hoping to have some more up by the weekend (keeping my fingers crossed!) but I do have **_**a lot **_**of work due this week, some of which I'm really procrastinating on, so we'll see. **

**Thank you a million times over for your patience – I'm not abandoning anything before it's finished, so if I don't post for awhile, it's not because I'm not thinking about it – I am! – but because RL things get in the way far too often.**

**If I haven't replied to your review/pm yet, it's for similar reasons. I will, don't worry. :)**

**Next Terrorist chapter is Chapter 14 (21 in the dropdown menu). **

**Anyway, chapter title this time taken from the **_**Anastasia**_** (20th Century Fox film) soundtrack.**

**Because I worry: there's some mention of alcohol used as a drug (to persuade) that might be a bit uncomfortable, possibly. The situation discussed isn't a serious one, though, and isn't meant to mimic certain RL situations involving alcohol being used to persuade at all. Please use caution when reading the chapter if that might upset you (it's not major, and doesn't happen till well into the second-to-last scene).**

* * *

Chapter 10: Reminiscing with Grandma

"Y'know, Miyagi, I'm glad I slept all the way the first time you drove me here. The landscape around here is really fucking boring."

Miyagi didn't say anything, just made a noncommittal noise, and Shinobu wondered what the man was thinking; the road was far too deserted for him to be focusing _that_ much on his driving. Though, really, he didn't know how much focus driving required, seeing as he'd never actually driven himself, but considering they usually had conversations when they were driving around Tokyo, he was pretty sure Miyagi could afford to do something other than glare intensely at the road for five seconds. Not that he needed attention, or anything. It was just annoying, really.

It was the middle of August now, which meant that Shinobu had stopped vomiting and feeling generally awful enough for them to make a trip to Miyagi's hometown. Miyagi's parents were vacationing overseas, unfortunately, but he'd had agreed, after as much sullen glaring as Shinobu could muster, to introduce Shinobu to his only living grandparent, who was ninety-two years old and lived on her own in a small house somewhere in the town Miyagi had grown up in.

"She's my father's mother," he had told Shinobu when he asked. "My other grandmother died a few years back from pneumonia, and my maternal grandfather died from heart disease some years before."

"What about your other grandfather?" he'd asked.

"Him? Oh, he died in the war. Grandma Miyagi never remarried."

So they were traveling now to meet Miyagi's oldest living relative, who was probably half-deaf and smelled of cats and denture glue. He supposed he should be impressed that she raised Miyagi's father on her own, but, really, he was just happy Miyagi was willing to introduce him to any member of his family.

Well, he had been, before he realized the ride was really boring.

"Why did you have to grow up in such a boring small town, anyway?"

"Hey, I'll have you know Matsho Basho was born around a hundred kilometers from my hometown!"

"What a great accomplishment that is," Shinobu said with a snort. Then, "Is that why you're so interested in Matsho Basho, anyway?"

"No," Miyagi admitted, "it was because of a teacher."

"Sensei again?"

"Who? Oh, no, not because of her. No, one of the professors at Mitsuhashi. When I was a student there, I had him for beginning lit as a freshman. He hated Matso Basho with a passion, and I found him so annoying that I became determined to prove him wrong. He ended up transferring when I made professor, which is why they hired Kamijou. And the rest, as they say, is history."

Shinobu glared at Miyagi, but he didn't seem to notice. "Why did you have to mention that man, anyway?"

Miyagi rolled his eyes, but kept his head turned towards the road. "You have no reason to be jealous, Shinobu-chin. He's pregnant, y'know."

"He is? Wait, whose child is it?" Shinobu narrowed his eyes, but still Miyagi didn't flinch.

"His partner's, duh."

"He has a partner?"

"Yes, so you can stop being so jealous now," Miyagi said. "He's a doctor – or a doctor-in-training, I think."

"Wow, I feel bad for their kid," Shinbou remarked, and Miyagi made a motion as if he was about to turn his head to look at him, but kept his eyes on the road.

"What? Why?"

"'Cause not only will they have _him_ for a parent, they'll also have the guy who's willingly been with

him for so long."

A muscle in Miyagi's cheek twitched. "The only reason you hate him is because of all the times you walked into my office and assumed things were happening that weren't."

Shinibu huffed. "I heard his students call him the devil."

"That's only because he throws books at them."

"And you're defending this maniac?"

Miyagi just rolled his eyes again. "Well, _someone_ has to."

Shinobu just snorted. "Not really." He winced at how whiny his voice sounded.

"Look, have I ever taken Kamijou for a weekend visit to my grandmother's?"

"I don't know, have you?"

Miyagi just sighed. He looked about ready to bash his forehead against the steering wheel. "No, of course not. Declench, will you? We've still got a bit before we get there, and you really shouldn't put yourself under undue stress."

Shinobu ignored the last bit, but muttered, "I guess so", and tried to relax into his seat. It wasn't until he started seeing orchards of fruit trees that he felt better, though.

"Ah, civilization!" Shinobu sat up straight in his seat. "In a manner of speaking, anyway," he added, glancing sideways at Miyagi, who only rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say, city boy." He made a left turn and Shinobu could see the shore in the distance. "My grandmother lives fairly close to the coast; we should be there in a few minutes."

"Wait, you grew up by the beach? Then why did your parents send you vegetables?"

Miyagi blinked. "Uh, they live a bit further up road – they have a farm there. Didn't you know I grew up in a seaside town? I mean, you've been here before..."

Shinobu felt a blush heat up his cheeks. "I really didn't notice much besides the cemetery and the hotel," he replied, mentally cursing his tunnel vision at the time.

"Yeah, you have a tendency to hyperfocus on things."

Shinobu felt his back tense up. "And just what do you mean by _that_?"

"Y'know, you... often can't see the forest for the trees. When you get something in your head, you focus on that one thing to the expense of everything else."

Shinobu shifted in his seat, a frown forming on his face. "Well, _sorry_ then, for my... hyperfocusing tendencies." He tried not to pout, but it never did work.

Miyagi looked at him in the rear view and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's actually kinda endearing," he said, almost too quietly, but just enough that Shinobu heard. He felt his ears turn pink and tried not to smile. "Anyway, we're here, Shinobu-chin."

The house was a mix of Western and Eastern architecture, coated in blue. An orchard of blue plum trees was growing to the left of the house, shading it from the sun. The house was meticulously kept in some places, like the bluebells and forget-me-nots that dotted the walkway and sprawled up the front of the house, but yet the lawn was threatening to swallow the house whole with its overgrowth, and the parts of the house looked as though they hadn't been retouched in decades.

"What's up with all the blue?" Shinobu asked as he slammed the car door behind him, his weekend bag hanging off his right shoulder.

"Grandma Miyagi's name is Aoiko," Miyagi told him by way of explanation as he lifted out his own bag from the trunk.

"But it's not like I'm obsessed with ninja," Shinobu pointed out as he watched Miyagi close the trunk; he didn't want to start walking up to the house before him.

Miyagi just smirked as he walked up to him. "Yet I do remember you mentioning ninja a few years ago..."

Shinobu blushed. "Only so I could connect it to your stupid Matso Basho."

Suddenly, the door to the house swung open and out walked an old woman with a face so wrinkled Shinobu couldn't imagine it ever being smooth.

"Yoh-kun?" The old woman called out, and it struck Shinobu that he was now dealing with two Miyagis. This weekend could get confusing... "Is that you?"

"Yes," Miyagi said, walking forward to greet his grandmother while Shinobu just stood there awkwardly. The elder Miyagi caught sight of him and waved him over.

"Don't be shy, young man!" she called out. "I'm 92, I can't possibly hurt you!"

Shinobu blushed again and walked forward, following the two of them into the house.

Miyagi took his bag to put it somewhere – in the room they were staying in, or something – and as he took off his shoes in the entryway, Shinobu got a good look at the inside of the house. The décor continued with the monochromatic theme of the outside, covering the house in various shades of blue. The only non-blue items appeared to be photographs, many of them in black and white and often depicting the same handsome young man, sometimes with a happily posing young woman.

"Is that your husband?" Shinobu asked, pointing to the nearest photo. The elderly woman's face immediately brightened.

"Oh, yes, that's my Yoshio," she said with clear affection, and Shinobu felt a sudden rush of sadness for her – her husband had been dead for over sixty years, and still she spoke of him with such love.

He then heard footsteps, and turned towards them to see Miyagi walking towards him without bags, from wherever he'd put them. He felt the elderly woman's gaze on him, so he looked back at her. She seemed to be scrutinizing him. "You're Yoh's ex-brother-in-law, aren't you? I remember you from the wedding."

Miyagi stopped walking and started rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Actually..."

"I'm Miyagi's lover." Miyagi had a tendency to beat around the bush when it came to these things, and Shinobu saw no problem in being blunt. However, Miyagi's right eye began to twitch and he started to clearly sweat.

The elder Miyagi was paying him much attention. "Who? Oh, Yoh... well, that explains why you're here. Good for you." Her voice held no sarcasm. "Would either of you like some tea? I'd just boiling a pot of water before you arrived." With that, she scuffled off to the kitchen.

"Is she always like that?" he asked his Miyagi.

"Pretty much. It's why I brought you here first, actually. My parents aren't always so... open-minded." He paused a moment. "They're still better than most, really, they're just not as accepting of everything as she is."

Shinobu scrunched up his nose. "Wait, is _that_ why you were hedging? So you'd have an excuse to have me avoid meeting your parents so soon?"

Miyagi looked flustered for a moment. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He than walked remarkably quickly to the dining area. A ticked off Shinobu followed him to see Miyagi's grandmother already pouring out three cups of tea into dark blue saucers placed on a sky blue tablecloth.

"Grandma, there's something else we need to tell you," Miyagi began as they sat down to the slowly cooling tea. The elderly woman looked up in interest.

"Oh?"

"I'm pregnant," Shinobu said, and waited for her questions. Much to his surprise, however, she just smiled.

"Oh, that's lovely!" She must've seen the confusion on their faces, as as she added, "I've already heard about the male pregnancies. Emiko - you know her, Yoh, she's my dear childhood friend – anyway, she couldn't help but tell me of her impending great-grandchild." The woman's smile widened. "Oh, but I had to keep mum about it – I can't wait to tell Emiko we're in the same boat!"

"She wasn't supposed to –"

The old woman waved one of her hands. "I know, I know, but it's not like I'd blab. I wouldn't want to cause Emiko's grandson any problems, would I?" She sighed. "It's not like the government can keep this secret forever, though. People notice things. They're not stupid. Heck, I'm surprised the whole thing's stayed quiet for this long." She looked at Shinobu more closely. He felt like he was a panda in a zoo. "It's good you told me – it explains your gut, young man." She said the last bit with a bit of a smirk as she stood up to take her finished tea to the kitchen sink.

"Hey, I do not – " Actually, Shinobu wasn't sure about that since he'd deliberately avoided even _thinking_ about his body since the diagnosis, but his argumentative side had already kicked in. He could feel himself blushing, too, which made it all the worse. "I don't, right, Miyagi?"

Miyagi coughed lightly. "Well, actually, it might not be a bad idea for you to start wearing looser shirts..."

"MIYAGI!" Shinobu's face felt like it was on fire, and he gave his best glare - complete with disapproving frown - to convey his displeasure.

From the kitchen came the sound of a loud, uproarious laugh, and following it was Miyagi Aoiko. She looked at the two of them, wiping tears from her, and said, "I'm sorry, but you two remind of Yoshio and I during my first pregnancy."

Shinobu blinked, looking up at the woman. She was practically glowing, and looked younger somehow. "Really?"

"Yes, although I kept insisting I was showing while he insisted it was just body fat." She sighed, still smiling, though somehow it seemed bittersweet – then she shook her head quickly, as if bringing herself out of those thoughts, and looked at Shinobu again. "How far along are you?"

"Seven weeks."

She blinked and then smiled at him. "Wow, and you're already showing."

Shinobu shifted; he wasn't sure he liked this topic of conversation. "Miyagi-san, what was your husband like?"

Her face took on that same youthful glow. "Oh, he was a wonderful man. He approached me first, of course. Told me I was the most beautiful beautiful girl I'd ever seen, that I was destined to be his bride –" Miyagi gave the strangest cough at that – "but of course, I refused him, saying I couldn't possibly date someone five years younger." _They had a five year age gap? _Shinobu thought, surprised. "He kept insisting, though, and one day he bought me several dozen forget-me-nots, and it was so sweet sweet I agreed to go on a date with him. It was magical – he knew I liked to practice calligraphy, so he bought me this beautiful book to write in – all rich parchment with a thick blue cover – I still have it, actually – anyway, it was at that moment I knew we'd be together forever." She sighed, a happy smile brightening her face, her eyes appearing to be off in another world. "I didn't tell, though – I made him keep courting me." She giggled, sounding remarkably like a school girl with her first crush. Then she seemed to come back to Earth. "Ah! I should go prepare dinner." With that, she stood up again, taking Shinobu and Miyagi's cups and saucers with her as she shuffled into the kitchen.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Shinobu asked Miyagi, "has anyone ever told you you're like your grandmother?"

Miyagi blinked and shot him a bit of an odd look. "A few times. Why?"

Shinobu just shrugged and relaxed into his seat. "No reason."

* * *

"So, are you all packed?"

Miyagi smiled at his grandmother. It had been a lovely weekend in her company, but, unfortunately, Shinobu had an obstetrics appointment he could not miss, and they couldn't stay any longer.

"I'm just waiting for Shinobu to finish up; he shouldn't be long," he said. His own bag was on the floor at his feet, ready to go in the car; he'd had it prepared since the night before. Shinobu had decided to wait until the last minute instead, which was why he was current hastily throwing things into his bag and anxiously making sure he hadn't forgotten anything in the guest room they'd stayed in.

"Shinobu-kun's a lovely young man, Yoh," his grandmother told him, and he had to swallow back the impulse to thank her. "He reminds me of my Yoshio when he was that age."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded. "Thank you," he decided on, finally.

She smiled at him. "You're lucky, Yoh, luckier than I was." Her smile almost broke, but she continued. "He's good for you. Don't let him go."

_"I won't." I can't._

His grandmother seemed to understand. "Good."

At that point, he heard the heavy sound of footsteps he recognized as Shinobu's. So much for him being a ninja. "Miyagi, I got everything," he said, as he reached the door, his duffel clutched at his side. Shinobu had chosen loose clothes this morning, so he was barely showing, even though Miyagi knew what to look for.

"I'll take it," Miyagi said, reaching for Shinobu's bag, then grabbing his own off the floor. "I'll take these to the car. You be a good boy and say goodbye to my grandmother, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Shinobu said, rolling his eyes, though he really didn't seemed that annoyed.

Miyagi smiled at his grandmother. "Grandma, it's been a pleasure."

"Same here," she said. "Keep me updated on the baby, won't you?"

"Of course," he said, and bowed in goodbye. His grandmother did the same, and he turned around and made his way to the car to pack his bags and wait for Shinobu.

It was long before they were ready to leave. "I'm afraid it's going to be a boring journey back, Shinobu."

"That's okay," he said as they drove away from the house they'd stayed in for the last few days. He paused. "Do you think we can come back some time?"

Miyagi glanced at Shinobu. He was looking out the window, his cheeks red.

"I think my grandmother would like that."

"Good."


	17. Chapter 10, Part 2: Terrorist

The ride back from Miyagi's hometown was nearly as boring as the ride there, except of course this time Shinobu wasn't dreading meeting some boring old relative. He was happy that his fears had been unfounded, though he was not looking forward to the lengthy drive of any of the future trips he knew they'd be taking to visit her.

It was on a particularly boring stretch of empty road that Miyagi's cellphone went off, playing an irritatingly familiar tune, the kind Shinobu knew he'd heard before but wasn't quite able to place.

"Shinobu-chin." Miyagi's voice had a slight whine to it. He grabbed the phone out of his pants pocket and threw it at Shinobu. "Answer it, won't you?"

"What the hell, old man? Answer you own damn phone!"

Miyagi didn't take his eyes off the road, but his face formed a pout. Shinobu rolled his eyes at the expression. "But I'm driving, Shinobu-chin! I don't want to put my precious lover in danger."

Shinobu felt his face burn. Miyagi could say the dorkiest things, but sometimes it was also oddly sweet, in a way. He tried to keep his tone unaffected as he replied. "Whatever." He looked down at the phone and read the kanji in the window: _dean. _Shinobu was struck by just how ridiculous Miyagi could be, even when he was labeling his contacts. "It's my dad."

At those words, Miyagi's eyes went wide and the car swerved as he scrambled to pick up the phone from Shinobu. Luckily he steadied the wheel in enough time for them not to go careening off the road.

"It's so good to hear from you, sir!" he blurted out, not even bothering with a simple greeting.

One-sided phone conversations were often irritating to listen to, but Shinobu found it was even more so when he desperately cared about what the other person had to say. Even though he and his father didn't exactly get along, he didn't want him to step out of his life forever, especially since his mother and sister had already pledged their willingness to support Shinobu if needed.

Beyond that, his father was Miyagi's boss, and the school year was due to resume soon. Miyagi hadn't heard any news about his current job status, and he was getting antsy; Shinobu had heard him muttering to himself at night, apparently not aware Shinobu was awake. "Uh, you want to speak with me today? At five o'clock?" Miyagi's gaze shifted to him. His appointment was was a bit earlier than that, but it would definitely run to the that time, at least. As much as Shinobu was not a fan of dealing with those appointments alone, he didn't know when his father would call again, and he really wanted to get this over with. He gave Miyagi an affirmative nod of the head."Yes, that would be fine. Five's good. At my apartment? Er, sure, fine. I'll see you then. Goodbye." Miyagi ended the call, pocketing his phone.

Shinobu could see the sweat glistening on the steering wheel from where Miyagi's palms had gripped it; his forehead had that same shine, too. He turned his head back towards the road. "Yoichi is my father's favorite brand of whisky."

"What?" Miyagi twitched his head, as if to look at him, but kept his eyes on the road.

"Risako says that dad's more open-minded when he's intoxicated."

Miyagi raised an eyebrow. "You do realize you're suggesting drugging him, right?"

Shinobu furrowed his brow. "Well, not really. I mean, yes, alcohol is a drug, but you're not forcing him to take it, or lying about what's in it. He's not unaware of the consequences of drinking too much, and he understands them and that he can avoid getting drunk even if he drinks some of the alcohol, so there's no liability there. Plus, even if he is your guest, he's also your boss and you're in hot water, so he's the one who holds all the cards, meaning there's not even peer pressure involved." He could hear Miyagi chuckling quietly. Annoyed, he glared at him. "What?"

Miyagi lips twitched, like he was trying to repress a smile. "I was just thinking it's a good thing you chose to go into law instead of literature. It suits you."

Shinobu's frown only deepened. Somehow, he felt insulted. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, too frustrated to try to read between the lines.

Miyagi sighed, running his hand through his hair. "It's just... I wouldn't want to ever have to go up against you in court or whatever, that's all."

Shinobu pondered this for a moment, then decided that was good enough; he wasn't in the mood to pursue an argument with Miyagi over something the man hadn't actually said. "You shouldn't have to." He paused for a moment, letting that sink in before he shifted gears back to the previous topic. "So, about getting my father drunk..."

"You make that sound so awful, Shinobu, contrary to your defense before." Miyagi hummed lightly, seeming to think it over. "Have you ever tried it?"

"No," he said, "I never really needed to. Risako was a lot more rebellious than I was."

Miyagi snorted. Shinobu glared at him again. He wasn't exactly at his most tranquil when it came to things involving Miyagi normally, and he had a feeling a current circumstance was making it worse. "What?"

"I don't think you were a very... _cooperative_ teenager, Shinobu-chin," he said, clucking his tongue. Shinobu felt his face flush. "Sneaky, maybe, but certainly not an obedient, dutiful son."

Shinobu felt his glare intensify. "Well, it wasn't exactly like I could ask his permission! What was I supposed to say: 'Hey, Dad, just so you know, I'm just gonna go and try to convince one of your employees and ex-son-in-law to date me. Don't worry it's okay, I'm already a senior in high school, and it's totally legal for him to fuck me. Besides, he's only seventeen years older than me."

Miyagi was coughing now, his right hand over his mouth as he leaned against the steering wheel with a streak of redness over the top of his cheeks. There might have been some laughter in there, Shinobu wasn't sure. For a moment, he was quite grateful they were on an empty road.

"Well, considering you used such a crude word..."

"Miyagi!" he snapped. "That wasn't the point!"

"I know. Really, though, Shinobu-chin, why did I ever give in to what you wanted?"

That stung. The question was rhetorical, obviously, and Miyagi's tone was light and teasing, even playful, but it still hurt. He tried not to let the pain resound in his voice when he replied. "Because you were overwhelmed by my magnificent charms." Shinobu winced. As much as he'd tried to say that with a flat affect, his voice had come out sounding really whiny. He turned his head to look out the side window.

"Shinobu." There was a sigh, and Shinobu could tell Miyagi's gaze was on him, if only partially. "Yes, that's exactly why. I completely fell for your charms." Miyagi's voice didn't sound teasing this time. "Your adorableness, tenacity, loyalty, devotion, grace, courage, zeal, attentiveness, determination, recklessness, obstinacy, bizarreness, complete inability to tell a lie..."

Shinobu's face felt like it was on fire and it was rapidly spreading down his ears and neck while his heart kept beating abnormally fast. At the word "recklessness", though, he frowned, and turned to look at Miyagi. The man was focusing on the road, but his face looked rather red.

"Hey! Some of those aren't good traits!" he said, trying to sound properly annoyed.

Miyagi paused for a moment. He bit his lip, swallowed, and sighed, as if he resolving himself to something. "Ah, but to me they are, Shinobu-chin. Even your 'faults' are endearing to me."

Oh hell, if Shinobu wasn't ridiculously happy already, that last sentence would be enough to undue any annoyance. He felt his stomach flip, and looked at the clock on the dashboard to remind himself that he had an appointment he couldn't miss, so he couldn't jump Miyagi right now no matter how much he wanted to, damnit. Also, they could get into an accident if he tried, which would really suck.

"Hey, Miyagi, are you going to be picking me up from my appointment?" he asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Not that he wanted to know so he could figure out how soon he'd be able to touch Miyagi, or anything like that.

Miyagi glanced at him. "Actually, you'll probably have to take the train home – your clothes will hide anything that might raise eyebrows, so you're safe."

Shinobu shifted in his seat. His ardor had died down a bit, but he was still feeling like he had an itch he needed to scratch, as if he was going through withdrawal from Miyagi. "Okay." It wasn't that he minded having to take the train, but he didn't like being reminded of... certain things. He'd spent a lot of time in front of the mirror that morning, when Miyagi wasn't in the room, examining his abdomen and the strange bump there. His body looked so alien to him; he'd spent some time convincing himself the reflection really was his body before he realized he had to leave. As it was, he still hadn't fully accepted the body he saw this morning was truly his own. Even worse, he'd only be getting bigger and more abnormal for the next eight months or so. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the anxiety that arose at the thought. It was only a few months, really, and then he'd have a kid to take care of, and then Miyagi would be _really_ experiencing all the weirdness with him, and everything else that came with it. He'd had to graduate a year later then he'd expected, but other than that, it wouldn't really be that different from what he'd planned, right? Right.

Shinobu shook his head to clear them of any unpleasant thoughts, then lay back and closed his eyes; it was still going to be a long drive back.

* * *

The clock was telling Miyagi it was nearly five, which meant he was flittering around the apartment, looking for anything that might seem the slightest bit out of place. His stomach was doing a gymnastics routine, and he was breathing as though he had just done one himself, but he was trying damn hard to make sure it wasn't showing. They'd arrived at Shinobu's appointment slightly early, so they'd gone to a bookstore, during which Shinobu had left him when he was distracted by a new and shiny hardcover edition of _The Pillow Book. _He'd realized this the moment Shinobu had come back and handed him a bag from the liquor store across the street, "just in case". The bottle from that bag was currently sitting on the sofa table, because even if he didn't go the way of encouraging the dean to become a bit loopy, he could always use it as a bribe – er, give it as a gift.

The door bell rang and Miyagi nearly jumped out of his skin. He took a moment to calm his nerves – normally, he'd be smoking like an unregulated smokestack, but he was trying his best to quit for Shinobu's sake, and, really, he didn't think smelling like a tobacco plant would leave a good impression on the dean, especially considering Shinobu's condition and all.

He hurried to the door and smoothed out his clothes, taking a breath before opening the door and greeting the dean, trying to sound far more confident than he felt. "It's good to see you," he said, and sincerely meant it, if only mostly because he wanted to know just what was going on in the dean's head about the current situation.

"I imagine so," the dean said as he took off his shoes. Miyagi winced; that didn't sound like a good start. The dean looked around, a slight frown gracing his features, and Miyagi realized just where Shinobu got his frowning genes from – if there were even frowning genes... "Where's Shinobu?"

Miyagi blinked. "Uh, he's at an obstetrics appointment." The dean raised an eyebrow at that. "He said it was fine if I didn't accompany him, and he really couldn't miss the appointment. He'll come back by train; there's a station right next to the OB's office, and one less than five minutes from here."

The dean hummed a bit. "Well, it's probably better if he's not here; I'd planned to ask him to go into a different room, and wasn't sure if I could avoid an argument over that."

Miyagi laughed nervously as they made their way to the living area. He wasn't sure why the dean didn't want Shinobu there during their conversation, but it didn't give him cause to relax. He guided the dean to the sofa table he'd set up earlier, then paused for a moment, considering if he should get out a shotglass.

"Ah, my favorite whisky," the dean said, looking at the bottle fondly. "Did Risako tell you I'm easier to persuade when I'm drunk?"

Miyagi blinked as the dean sat down on the chair closest to the bottle. "Shinobu did, actually."

"Really? I didn't think he knew."

"Risako told him."

"Ah." The dean took a closer look at the label. "Twenty years old? You went all out, I see. For the record, I like the ten year better; I'd rather the taste be strong. Get me a shotglass, won't you?"

Miyagi tried not to stare. "Shinobu picked it out, actually." The dean's face shifted at this, but Miyagi had no idea why, so he just ignored it and went to get the dean a shotglass.

"It's not true, you know," the dean said, not shouting but still with a raised voice. Miyagi hoped it was just because he was a bit out of normal hearing range, as he was currently rummaging through the kitchen cabinets to find a shotglass. He knew they were somewhere in the back of the left uppermost cabinet; he'd put them there when he made the decision a few weeks ago to ban alcohol from the apartment, since he didn't want Shinobu to actually drink some. Shinobu had raised an eyebrow at that and told him he was being paranoid, but it made Miyagi feel better to not have the stuff around, so he'd just ignored him. He'd broken the rule today, obviously, but he decided it was okay as long as he let the dean take it home.

Finally procuring a shotglass that been hiding behind a colander, he made his way back to the dean, and remembered he'd hadn't responded yet to the man's earlier statement. "What's not true?"

"That I'm easier to persuade with alcohol in my system." The dean took the glass from Miyagi's hand, thanking him, and poured himself a shot. "I just let her think that so that everytime she comes to me with something she knows I won't like, I get free alcohol." He paused for a moment, lifting up the glass and eying it, holding it in his hand as if contemplating it. "It was especially useful when she was a teenager."

He downed the glass in one gulp. Miyagi, now in a chair across from him, felt his stomach going into an elaborate balancing beam routine; this wasn't going well at all. Even the alcohol strategy wouldn't save him from whatever the dean decided, though he was at least able to not feel so guilty about using it.

"Now," the dean said, looking Miyagi in the eye; he felt a shiver run down his spine, "about your job, re: you being in a questionable relationship with my son while he's still in college." Miyagi squirmed in his seat. "What?"

Well, he might as well come clean. "And during high school." That sounded awful. "A little." Yeah, that wasn't much better. Damn him and his guilt.

The dean blinked. "Oh, hell, I'm going to need more alcohol," he said, then poured himself another shot of whisky and downed it, more quickly then he had last time. He sighed, looking down into his empty glass, and then looked up at Miyagi. "I could fire you, you realize. I have more than enough reason to. I should, really. But..."

"But?" Miyagi prompted, suddenly hopeful.

The dean sighed again. "Shinobu," he said, reaching for the whisky and pouring himself another glass. Miyagi titled his head, not sure what the dean meant. "He wouldn't be happy with me if I did." There was a twisting in Miyagi's gut as he watched the dean drink yet another glass of the whisky. For some reason, his throat felt a bit dry. "He'd probably never speak to me again, or even let me see him. Even worse, he'd probably move with you somewhere foreign or at least far away without you tied down by your job here, and I'd have no idea how he's doing, because he wouldn't let you contact me, either." The twisting feeling got worse. The dean must have spent a lot of time thinking this over, which wasn't surprising, but it was perfectly clear he'd examined every possible scenario from every angle, thinking of Shinobu's reaction the entire time. "And of course you wouldn't contact me anyway, because Shinobu has just the right demeanor to convince you to never do so, and you'd have no reason to talk to me, anyway." There was a pause. For a moment, Miyagi could swear there was a slight glistening at the edge of the dean's eyes, but the man just looked down for a moment, swallowed, and looked back up at Miyagi. "So, because of that... I'm letting you continue your job at Mitsuhashi, with the caveat that you never do something as monumentally stupid as screwing my teenage son again." Suddenly, the coarse language Shinobu had used in the car made sense, in that he was more like his father than the he probably thought.

For a second, Miyagi considered objecting that it wasn't stupid, he had no right to judge, and, anyway, it wasn't like he had another teenage son for him to sleep with, not that he would want to you, mind you, he's straight, Shinobu's just an exception, not that it matters anymore, because he was going to be with Shinobu for the rest of his life anyway, if fate would allow him to –

But then he realized that would probably be very, very stupid of him to say and kept his mouth shut.

"Considering your situation," the dean said, continuing on, "I will also allow you the sabbatical you requested for the beginning of next year, though I _do _still expect you to do research, even if you have to ask for assistance from my wife, Risako, and I to do so."

It took Miyagi a moment to figure out he was talking about helping with the baby once it was born, but when he did, he realized the dean was essentially offering the same support Shinobu's mother and Risako had offered at the hospital a month ago. "Thank you," he said, and meant it.

"Yes, well, I think that's all we need to discuss," the dean said, standing up without faltering. Miyagi stared, thinking of the amount of whisky the dean had drank and wondering how the hell he was still acting so sober. "I have a high alcohol tolerance." Clearly, the man was used to people wondering that.

"Lucky genes. Anyway, I think it's time I leave. I assume I can take the rest of the whisky with me?"

"Of course. I banned alcohol from the apartment, anyway, y'know, just in case."

The dean seemed confused for a moment, then looked at Miyagi appraisingly. "Did you quit smoking, too?"

"Cold turkey."

"Huh." The dean gave him a look that just might be one of approval, but Miyagi wasn't about to get his hopes up. "I was leaving, wasn't I?"

"I'll get the door," he said, and followed the dean to the entryway, worried that the man would walk into a wall despite his surprising sobriety.

The dean put on his shoes without a fuss, and then looked up at Miyagi. "Goodbye, Miyagi-kun. I expect my son will call me soon, yes?"

"He will," Miyagi confirmed, opening the door, only to stare, surprised to see a familiar face standing before him, key in hand.

"Ah, Shinobu," the dean said, nodding his head at his son in greeting. "I was just about to leave."

Shinobu gave a slight frown at this, then shifted on his feet. "Er, could you stay for a few moments? I, uh, should probably tell you, too."

The dean raised an eyebrow. "More news? Grand." It was hard to miss the sarcasm in his voice."Should I just finish off the whisky now?"

Shinobu gave a proper frown this time. "No, I don't think so. Could you move, though? I'd like to close the door first."

Miyagi shuffled back, letting Shinobu into the apartment. Shinobu closed the door behind him, then turned to face them. He took a deep breath, then opened his mouth – and said nothing.

"Well?" The dean said, sounding as if he'd reached the end of his patience.

Shinobu audibly swallowed. "It's just, uh..." He ran his hand through his hair, then sighed, his face becoming stoic. "It's twins."

For a minute, there was silence. Miyagi's brain felt like it had smashed into a wall at two hundred kilometers an hour, then ran off and got drunk on tequila. _What_?

From beside him, he heard what sounded suspiciously like cackling. He turned to see the dean, a smile on the man's face that looked full of schadenfreude. "Twins, huh? That will be... interesting. I'll be sure to tell your mother." Still smiling, he turned to Miyagi. "I expect to see you on the first. I'll e-mail you the schedule."

"Uh, yeah," he said, still shellshocked. The dean nodded at Shinobu, who opened the door for his father, stepping out of the way to let him leave.

Once the dean had left, Shinobu slipped off his shoes, then wordlessly walked past Miyagi, who turned to follow him.

Shinobu opened the fridge and looked inside. "Apparently the bitter taste will probably last for the rest of the first trimester. They gave me some tips for dealing with it... Anyway, what do you want for dinner?"

Miyagi stared at him. He'd just told him they'd be having two children instead of one, and that was his main thought? What to have for dinner?

Shinobu just looked at him. "Well?"

He just shook his head. He really had no idea what to say. Shinobu just shrugged at him. "Take out? I could go for some udon, and it would be nice not to cook." He said nothing in reply, just continued to stare at him. Shinobu raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll go call," he said, taking out his cellphone.

Miyagi finally managed to move again, making himself sit down on the plush couch. Twins. That wouldn't be that hard to deal with, right?

"Fate has it in for me," he mumbled to himself, and wished the dean would've at least had the decency to leave some of the whisky behind.

* * *

**Endnotes: Yoichi is an actual brand of whisky in Japan, and according to the reviews and accolades its gotten, is apparently quite good.**

_**The Pillow Book **_**is a book filled with the musings of a court woman named Sei Shonagon. It was completed in 1002 CE. This information is, of course, from Wikipedia.**

**200 kilometers per hour is equivalent to around 124 mph. **


	18. Chapter 11: Egoist

**Notes: This chapter is short, but there's another short Egoist chapter planned for the chapter after next (chapter 20 by the dropdown menu). **

**I might be making some cosmetic changes (grammar fixes, sentences added for better flow, evening out the wordcount in the individual parts, etc) to previous chapters soon, but nothing major.**

**Meds seem to be working right (*fingers crossed*), so with any luck the next Egoist chapter should be up sometime soon. **

**Chapter title taken from a song of the same name by Tom Paxton.**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: The Marvelous Toy

Hiroki had decided that sometimes he really hated the world.

This revelation - not entirely new, but one he often forgot (especially since he had met Nowaki) - came to him on his 34th birthday, when he saw the overly cheerful face of his mother upon opening his apartment door. As much as he loved his mother, he had planned to spend the day with only Nowaki, who had gotten time off for this explicit purpose. Nowaki had spent little time at home lately due to working overtime in hope he'd be able to take off more time later without heavy repercussions. Thus Hiroki had found himself with little company lately - Akihiko, when he did come over, always seemed distracted by whatever was going on back in his apartment (probably, Hiroki reflected, the same as whatever was making Akihiko's skin so shiny lately).

Unfortunately, his mother had decided to come over unannounced, and, as much as he didn't really want her to be there, he couldn't bring himself to ask his own mother to leave. Nowaki was too polite for his own good; he warmly welcomed her into their home.

"Your father would be here, but he come down with a bad cold at the last moment," she told Hiroki as she took off her shoes in the vestibule, and for a moment Hiroki almost thought that it was too bad only his father had the cold – but he didn't, because he wasn't a heartless son, and, really, his mother wasn't so bad. He certainly knew of worse.

"That's too bad, mother," Nowaki said; his polite demeanor had stopped him from calling her 'mom' as she'd requested, but he'd gladly taken to calling her by a more formal form of the word. Hiroki had noticed the way he always seemed to slightly smile upon calling her that, and it made him wish he'd introduced him to her sooner. Nowaki led her to the couch so she could sit down, and Hiroki followed. "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, and as Nowaki passed Hiroki on the way to the kitchen, he gestured his head towards the calendar on the wall. Hiroki looked at, frowning at September 6th, which was circled in bright red and marked with sparkly birthday themed stickers Nowaki had gotten from work. For a moment, Hiroki wasn't sure why Nowaki had nudged him to look that way, but then he realized Nowaki hadn't written down a work shift for tomorrow, and the day after that he'd noted he was on call for the night shift. Sure, after that he had a week of varying twelve hour shifts before a break, but maybe they could spend some time together tomorrow.

On the other hand, Nowaki should get as must sleep possible before that many shifts...

His mother's voice broke through his thoughts. "Hiroki-chan, have you seen Akihiko recently? I've been talking to his partner - he's utterly adorable, so sad what happened to his parents - anyway, I was thinking of visiting them tomorrow."

Hiroki made a mental note to warn Akihiko of his mother's impending visit. If he didn't, he had a feeling Akihiko would kill him. Or at least be really annoyed.

"Akihiko drives me to my appointments," he said, approaching where his mother was and sitting down on a separate chair. "I haven't seen Takahashi since he celebrated his birthday in early August."

His mother nodded as Nowaki approached her and poured her some tea. "I remember when Akihiko was a child and use to visit us all the time, he was also quiet and eerily well-behaved for his age, I always worried about him... it's good to know he's doing well."

Hiroki nodded his head in agreement; he only wished for his friend the same happiness he had. Nowaki coughed.

"So, mother, you took the train all the way here?" Nowak said as he finished pouring out the tea. He sat in a chair he pulled up from the kitchen table.

"Yes, I did," she said, putting down her tea she'd begun to sip, "and I saw the most wonderful toy store – I bought two things for the baby!"

"Mom," Hiroki whined, embarrassed, "the baby's not even due for another three months, and you're already spoiling it!"

"Her," Nowaki said, softly.

His mother didn't seem to notice."Oh, don't be silly, Hiroki, I got them because I thought you'd like them, too," his mother said, reaching into her bag. "Here, Nowaki - I chose this one because of you."

In his mother's hand was something plush, a elongated shape with two long antenna-esque things at the end. Nowaki stared at it, then took it, cautiously, and looked at the tag.

"Oh, it's a plushie neuron!" he said, looking at in surprise. "Thank you, I think."

She just beamed at him, then reached in her bag again. "I got this because of you, Hiroki."

She held out another plushie, but this time it was easily recognizable – it was in the shape of a book. He took it from her.

"Erm, thanks," he said, staring at the thing. His mother smiled brightly at him.

"I thought this way the baby could associate books with fun and comfort from the start!"

Hiroki shrugged. He didn't think a book-shaped plush would communicate the pleasure of reading, but then again, it couldn't hurt. He certainly wouldn't want it to think of books in a negative sense.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

"Now, as for your gift, Hiroki..." His mother reached into the bag and pulled out a nicely wrapped box. "Here!" she said as she handed it over to him.

Hiroki held back a sigh. He could guess what this was... Still, his mother was in front of him, so he might as well make an effort to look somewhat interested. He took off the card first, opened it to discover it to be much the same as last year, only this time with a "34" instead of a "33" written in the card in his mother's curly script. The cover was the same begonia picture, the message the usual gushing of love and happiness his mother always put on his card, and the envelope was even the same – white with a floral border. He thanked his mother and then opened the present, not at all surprised at what he had found.

"Thank you, mom, this makes eighteen now," he said. He could tell Nowaki's face looked shocked at his ingratitude, but his mother had clearly been expecting it – ever since he had quit calligraphy when he was fifteen, she had gotten him a calligraphy set every year, clearly hoping he'd take up the art again. The calligraphy sets did vary year by year, as though his mother hoped all she had to do was hit on the right brand for her son to take up the skill again.

"You're welcome, Hiroki," his mother said, looking as pleased as punch despite Hiroki's less than enthusiastic reception of her gift. He put it aside, planning to shove it the same desk drawer he did every year, the kit staying there until he threw it out in a fit of rage when he couldn't find whatever it was he needed in his desk.

"I guess I can give you my present now, Hiro-san," Nowaki said, and for a moment, Hiroki flushed, his mind going straight to the gutter, where it always seemed to be lately. He squirmed in his chair – Nowaki wouldn't do anything like that with his mother here.

"Here it is," Nowaki said, coming out of the book room with a wrapped present. Hiroki wondered when Nowaki had found the time to buy it and hide it from him, but then he remembered his recent tendency to nap.

"I don't know if you'll like it, but I thought it was worth a try..." he said as Hiroki carefully opened the wrapping paper. It was definitely a book - well, that was a good start - and a large one - even better. The book had no title, so he flipped through it, only to realize the pages were blank.

"Nowaki?" he asked, confused, wondering why his partner had chosen to torture him so.

"It's a journal, Hiro-san," he told him, his voice sounding like he it probably did when he was explaining something to one of his patients. "I thought you might like it since you'll probably want to make note of everything in the up coming year."

He hummed noncommittally, examining the tome. It was a soft cover, the design much in the vein of the one on the one kimono his father owned, which he wore once a year on his mother's birthday. It was bound in a more traditional manor, the kind he was used to seeing on the few original copies of the books he studied. It was a modern retchoso, he realized, and the care that seemed to have been taken in the creation process exceeded what he was used to seeing on most other modern books.

"Is it handmade?" he asked as he opened it again, running his hand down the smooth blank paper.

"Yes," Nowaki admitted, though his voice was quiet, as though he hadn't planned to admit so. It was the kind of thing that make Hiroki's heart swell, because he knew that handmade books were expensive even at their smallest; Nowaki, however, was not one to brag about just how much he'd paid for it.

Hiroki smiled contently. There was a moment of poignant silence before his mother spoke up. "Is the baby kicking yet?"

Hiroki tore his eyes away from the book to look at his mother. "Uh, not yet, but Nowaki says that's normal."

She nodded. "Yes, you were a late kicker. I was so excited when I felt the first kick – of course, then you didn't seem to want to stop after that, so it wasn't as magical as I thought it'd be." His mother frowned for a moment, then smiled. "But then you were born, and after that it was lovely!" She frowned again. "Mostly. Except for the cholic."

A shiver ran down his spine; those words sounded ominous.

He ignored it. After all, Nowaki was going to help him, and how hard could taking care of a baby be?

For some reason, Hiroki felt as though he'd just read a sentence full of dramatic irony. He took a look at the journal again, wondering just how much time he'd have to write in it for the coming year.

* * *

**Endnotes:  
**

**The neuron plush really exists, of course, though I don't think it's available anywhere offline. The company that makes it is called GIANTmicrobes, and has many similarly awesome plushies, including some in the shape of diseases, like the flu and the black plague. Sadly, I don't know of any commercially made book plushies, but they should exist, because it would be amazing if they did.**

_**Retchoso **_**is a book form that's considered uniquely Japanese. It's a multisection book sewn with a stitch known as a Butterfly Stitch; the spine of the book is exposed as well. Google it if you're interested to know more, because I'd be pretty much copying info from one easy-to-find page, and I feel a bit weird doing that.**


	19. Chapter 12: Romantica

**Notes: So this chapter has been written for several months now, from back when this story was first beginning, though I edited some stuff just now. It was interesting to see how my writing is changing, even just in this fanfic. Anyway, the next Romantica chapter, fifteen (chapter twenty-two in the dropdown menu), is going to be a ~*very special*~ chapter.**

**Other than that, there may be some not-really-significant-but-it-makes-my-perfectionist-tendencies-happy changes to the previous chapters sometime soon, just so you know, if you didn't already. :)**

**Title comes from "In My Room" by The Beach Boys.**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: In this World I Lock Out All My Worries and My Fears

Misaki was cleaning. This was by no means a new occurrence, but the veracity with which Misaki approached his task of dusting the dining room was impressive. There probably wouldn't be a spec of dirt left within the whole building by the time he was through; he'd have scared them all away.

"Misaki," Akihiko remarked as his lover flexed in a way he wasn't aware a six-and-a-half-month pregnant person could do. "Are you nesting?"

Misaki glared at him, blushing. "Stupid Usagi," he muttered, and when back to his task.

He smirked. "Don't you have a few months yet? The baby isn't due until December; it's not even October yet."

Misaki just looked at him. "Yes, but if I start now it wouldn't be as difficult closer to the due date." He went back to dusting a picture of some seascape that Usagi was pretty sure had come with the place. "Besides, December will be here before we know it."

Akihiko grunted. He had a feeling this conversation was about to go in a direction he didn't want it to go right now. He considered molesting Misaki as a means to distract him, but he didn't want to get a face full of dust and cobwebs.

"Anyway, we really should start preparing. What should-be-the-nursery still has my old bed in it!" Akihiko was happy to hear Misaki no longer considered that room "his", nor the bed anything other than his old one. Yet...

Misaki looked at him. "I was thinking... Usagi-san, you have a lot of toys you're not really doing anything with," ah, here we go, "so maybe we could put some in the nursery?"

Well, at least he was asking. "No."

"But you don't even go into the closet full of Suzuki-sans!"

"I've told you already, I'm collecting them until I get enough to match the number of Suzuki people in Japan."

Misaki glared at him. "First of all, the number of Suzuki people in Japan is only going to exponentially increase, so you won't ever match it." Great, now Misaki was using his Economics degree against him. "Second, do you even _know_ how many Suzuki-sans you have?"

Akihiko just stared at him, then sighed. "That's not the point."

Misaki ignored him, flailing and causing the dust collected in the feather duster to go everywhere, floating in the air. He coughed because of it, but otherwise didn't seem to notice, his voice growing louder and more frantic as he spoke."And what about the model of The Great Wall of China you never touch? The room full of marimo you never visit? The toy trains I've never seen you look at since I've been here?"

"Misaki. Those are _mine_. They belong to _me_. We can buy whatever the kid wants, but those things belong to me exclusively."

Misaki stopped gesturing and just stood there, gaping at him. "But... the rooms... they're being wasted..."

He sighed. He knew it would come to this. Misaki just didn't understand. "The penthouse is _mine_. I bought it years ago, before you even knew I existed. All the possessions in, with the exception of your few things, belong to _me_, no one else."

This was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Misaki looked like he might break the feather duster in his hands in half. "But I live here, too! And soon there will be _three_ people living here!"

Akihiko felt an uncomfortable twinge in his gut. "I'll buy whatever we need for the kid, no problem, he'll never go wanting for anything, no matter how extreme – "

Misaki's face took on this pitiful puppy dog look, the kind that made people donate thousands of dollars to whatever organization was running it in their commercials on TV. Akihiko felt a pang in his heart."That's not what I want. At all," Misaki mumbled. His shoulders slumped forward, and the look didn't disappear from his face. He sighed and combed a hand through his hair, leaving behind heavy traces of dust, but he didn't seem to care. "I'm... I think I'm going to lie down for awhile, okay? I didn't sleep well last night, and now I'm out of energy. We'll talk about this some other time, alright?" He turned around and shuffled toward the stairs, a certain dejectedness apparent in his gait.

Akihiko found himself starting to pace as he heard the bedroom door click shut. As much as he wanted to hug Misaki until that look on his face went away, take away whatever pain the boy was experiencing, he couldn't yield to his demands. The penthouse was his, dammit, and he didn't like people imposing on his space, he needed a retreat, somewhere to hide away, where no one else could infiltrate –

Well, no, that wasn't entirely true. Misaki was someone he was fine with having free reign within his chosen space. There was no room he could really consider just Misaki's now, except for maybe the kitchen, but even the rooms he thought of as his own – his office, his bedroom (recently it had become _their _bedroom, though) – Misaki freely went into, whenever he liked, and Akihko couldn't say he minded. Even his marimo, his eels, his toy trains – Misaki was the one who took care of them, keeping them clean (and feed, if needed); he was the one who changed his Suzuki-san's ribbon and built his model Great Wall of China. So many of the things he'd gotten when he was out on his own, freely, at his own whim, in an attempt to normalize his always horribly strange world – things that were, for once, truly his, and none of his family could comment on them or ask their purpose – all those things, Misaki had his permission to see, touch, take care of.

It wasn't because of their oddity Misaki was asking him to consider giving some of his things up, he knew that. When Isaka had commented on his peculiar number of teddy bears, Misaki had defended him. And, really, as much as he complained about the types of things he bought, he never truly tried to throw them out. He was unhappy when he bought them, sure, but he took care of them as he requested. So it wasn't that.

Then what was it? _"The rooms... they're being wasted..." _Hadn't Misaki complained one time about the sheer amount of _stuff_ Akihiko had collected over the years, and the room it took up? The reason they were using Misaki's old room for the nursery – besides the obvious fact that Misaki didn't need it anymore – was because it was the only room in the penthouse that wasn't filled with things. As it was, Misaki didn't have any room to call just his own, no room that wasn't, ultimately, _for_ someone else as well. Because the baby would have his old one.

Which bought on the other problem: the baby. As Misaki had pointed out, there were going to be _three _people living here, in this penthouse he'd never intended to share when he bought it. That's two people invading his space, one he was glad to let, of course; the other...

The other would be the child. His and Misaki's child. The one he'd heard the heartbeat of, seen the ultrasound of, and knew was destined to keep them up and run them ragged, and yet one they would put up with and worry over and raise and love. Because it was theirs. _Their_ child - whether by choice or by design, it was theirs.

He'd gotten the toys on the basis he wanted a normal childhood. Well, here was his chance to give a kid one.

_His_ kid.

He stretched, and looked at the time. He had the rest of the morning and the afternoon, and possibly sometime after that.

There was no way he could get it done in that time; he'd have to call in some favors, and wait on that apology of sorts to Misaki.

He hoped the wait would be worth it.

* * *

It had been days since Usagi had spoken to Misaki anything of significance, and Misaki was starting to panic. He was starting to wonder if he had mortally offended him by suggesting he give up some of the toys to the baby. Still, the things Usagi had said had hurt him, too, and he wasn't ready to apologize just yet. He did, however, have the feeling that he would the be the one doing all of the apologizing, which was enough to make him want to yell and break the feather duster.

So he was very surprised when Usagi had come to him after a terse dinner, looking strangely apologetic, and asked him if he would please come upstairs, he had something to show him. Curious, Misaki followed Usagi-san up the stairs and down the hall to a familiar door – a the one to his old room, which would eventually become the nursery.

"Usagi-san, what's this about?" he asked, feeling strangely like he had as a child when he woke up and realized it was his birthday.

"You'll see," he said, and opened the door.

Misaki gasped.

The room had been completely redone. The walls were painted a light sky blue, his favorite color - had he ever even told Usagi that? - with small pictures of teddy bears forming a border along the top. The plush, high-pile carpet beneath his feet was a light brown, a color which the curtains on the windows also matched. The centerpiece of the room was a silvery-white crib with teddy bear decals and a blue bedspread. The rest of the furniture - the changing table, dresser, toy box, rocking chair, and lamp - had much the same coloring and motifs. Half-a-dozen Suzuki-sans of different sizes sat on top of the dresser, with a bunny with symbols at the forefront. On one of the walls, Misaki noticed now, was a mural of – no, wait, it couldn't be –

"Usagi-san, is that Da*Kan?" he asked, turning to look at him.

He chuckled, a little darkly. "That's the first thing you noticed?"

Misaki felt his face grow hot for some reason. "Well, no..."

"I was able to persuade Ijuun-sensei to do a painting. He signed it at the bottom."

"What, really?" Misaki raced forward, with caution, to look closer. "Ijuun-sensei was in our house?"

Usagi's response sent shivers down Misaki's spine with it's sinister tone. "Yes." Misaki turned to look at him, feeling a sudden sense of doom come over him."Part of the payment was signed copies of my works." He smiled grimly. "All my works."

Misaki just stared at Usagi, unable to decide if the mural was worth what he had gone through to get there._ This kid better grow up to appreciate Da*Kan as much as I do..._

Usagi walked into the room and closed the door behind him. "Takahiro helped me with this part," he said, motioning to the door.

Misaki walked up to the door, now painted a deep brown with silver kanji on it. There were lines connecting the kanji; he spotted his name right away. The line above that connected him to "Takahashi Akira" and "Matsuda Tsukiko" – his parents, he realized with a sudden intake of breath – and the lines above them connected them to their respective parents. Downward from his parents was Takahiro's name, then Manami's connected to it, and Mahiro beneath that. Usagi's name completed the door, with a line leading down from his and Usagi's names, ending only with a "Takahashi".

"We'll have to add in the personal name after the baby is born," Usagi said, and Misaki could only nod, starting in shock at his family tree, painted elegantly on the back of his future child's bedroom door.

He felt his heart constrict at the thought, and his eyes burned and started to water; he pretended it ws due to dust.

Usagi's family wasn't written on the door, he noticed; the man was really trying to separate himself from his family as much as possible, now that there was a baby to factor in. _Though he still keeps his family name..._ Misaki shook himself at the thought.

"Usagi-san, when did you have the time to have this done?" he asked.

"While you were sleeping," was all he said. Well, okay, he _had_ been sleeping a lot lately... but, still... "It helped that the bedroom is soundproof."

"It is?" he exclaimed, staring at Usagi. "Why would you – nevermind, don't answer that." He really didn't want to think about what purpose the man had for soundproofing the bedroom. "Usagi-san, the toys –"

"Are mine. Or were mine. I decided I could at least spare a few of them for the baby," he said. Misaki blinked at him. Hadn't the man been adamant about keeping them all to himself a few days ago? By the looks of it, he still had kept a lot purely to himself – the teddy bears were probably less than 1% of the Suzuki-sans, considering the size of the collection that had nearly suffocated him on more than one occasion – but, still. It was more than Misaki had expected of him, really.

His heart felt light and warm, like a recently warmed piece of chocolate molten lava cake, not that he'd had any recently. Or a balloon. That was a better metaphor, because it didn't contain food he totally didn't want right as he thought of it. Dragging himself from his thoughts, he smiled at Usagi. "Thank you," he said, feeling like the words came from the bottom of heart.

Usagi looked at him. "Besides that... I changed the deed."

"Huh?" Misaki said. Why would he –

"This penthouse is now officially the property of Usami Akihiko _and_ Takahashi Misaki." He paused for a moment. "Well, it will be, as soon as you sign the deed."

Misaki just stared him. He had just been given partial ownership of a penthouse apartment. But he couldn't afford –

"Don't worry about the cost," Usagi told him, because apparently he was an open book. "Consider it a gift."

"I can't," he said, the balloon in his chest deflating as Usagi's words were a pin that pierced it. "I'll have to pay you back."

Usagi sighed. "I'd thought you say that," he admitted. He waved his hand. "We'll figure out how much you'll owe me later."

He could deal with that. The balloon fixed itself, inflating once more. "Okay," he agreed, suddenly aware of what it felt like to be a fuzzy toy near a heater on a cold day.

Usagi gave him another warm smile, and Misaki thought he'd burst from whatever it was that was coming over him. "I have one last thing to show you. Come with me."

_What now?_ he thought, his steps light; he was practically bouncing in anticipation._ What more could he have possibly have done?_

Usagi stopped this time in front of the room where he kept the toy trains. "Go on, open the door," he said. Misaki turned the knob and just... stared.

The room, repainted with a blue slightly darker than the one in the nursery, now lacked the toy trains it had once stored. Instead, it held a desk, a chair, a couch, a side table, a small television with the gaming system Misaki had received for his birthday, and a bookshelf filled with Da*Kan manga, suspense novels, and some of Usagi's books, including, horrifyingly enough, the BL ones. He chose to ignore that last bit.

"Is this for me?" Misaki asked, and he thought he might really cry now.

"Of course it is. It's painted your favorite color, isn't it?"

"How –?"

"Takahiro," Usagi said smoothly. "As for the room... I figured you should be able to have some privacy as well." Usagi seemed to consider his words for a moment, then smirked. "Well, when I feel like you can have some, anyway. I still have the key."

Misaki tried not to glower at him, which was easy, because he was in far too good a mood to be truly annoyed. "Where did the trains go?"

"They're stored in a box in the room with the marimo," Usagi said. "I thought about what I was least attached to, and decided I could clear out the trains." He smiled at him. "Do you like it?"

"Of course I like it!" Misaki said with genuine enthusiasm. He walked over to the couch and sat down, grinning madly as he took it all in, his legs kicking with restlessness. The baby chose that moment to kick, too, and for some reason that only made his grin wider. Usagi joined him on the couch, because the world had decided to be awesome and perfect today.

"Misaki," he said, and for some reason Misaki could hear a smirk in his voice, which almost made him nervous, "did you notice anything about this couch?"

Misaki looked down at the pinkish cushions. "It's identical to the one downstairs?"

Usagi's smirk widened. "Correct. Or, rather, the one downstairs is identical to it." Misaki just threw him a confused look. "This couch, my lovely Misaki, is the one we first had sex on."

Misaki could feel his face heat up quicker than a tea kettle over an open fire. A spark of rage cut through the fluffy feelings. "You bastard! Why would I care about that!"

Usagi got the distinct look of a cat that had caught the canary. "Because this room is meant for privacy," he said, pushing Misaki slowly down on to the cushions, licking his lips like he was about to feast.

"Usagi-san," Misaki said, trying not to moan. As Usagi pressed his lips against his, Misaki felt a wave of desire rush over him and he let his mouth open to allow Usagi to do as he wished. Usagi just moved his mouth away, however, and Misaki held back a frustrated moan, not wanting to give the Usagi the satisfaction of knowing what he was doing to him.

Usagi, strangely enough, shifted downwards, moving Misaki's shirt upwards to expose his stomach, and kissing the abdomen with feather light kisses. He'd never done that before, never even touched his stomach area since they'd found out about his condition. For some reason, the kisses he gave Misaki now made tears fully form his eyes, stronger than the ones he'd felt before. _It must be the hormones, _he thought, and then found himself wondering what excuse he'd come up with after the baby was born.


	20. Chapter 13: Egoist

**A/N: LOOK I ACTUALLY UPDATED. YAY. **

**Next Egoist chapter will be chapter 17 (25 on the dropdown menu). It will be a ~*very special*~ chapter, and I hope to hell I manage to get it out in an appropriate amount of time. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for not killing me. :)**

**Oh, and two more things: therte's no pov switch between scenes is this chapter, and I couldn't think of a name for this chapter, so I chose to post anyway without a proper title. That might be fixed sometime in the near future. I figured posting was more important than coming up with a title, so hopefully you understand. Thanks.**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

When it came to birthdays, decade years had a tendency to feel of utmost importance, like a turning point one couldn't help but be aware of. Hiroki knew this, which was why he was feeling strangely anxious over Nowaki's thirtieth birthday. At least, that was he was telling himself; that it had absolutely nothing to do with the gift he'd been planing for months now, one he'd picked out after numerous calculations and a fair amount of research. One had he had, weeks ago, gotten Akihiko to pick up and, after enduring a fair amount of amused, slightly snarky comments, had placed somewhere safe and hidden from Nowaki's view.

Somewhere he might have just forgotten the location of. And of course, since fate or whatever it was liked to fuck with him, today was Nowaki's birthday, or at least they day they celebrated it on, anyway, and he had no idea where the gift was — and Nowaki was due to arrive home in less than half-an-hour.

He was lucky, to some extent, because Nowaki wasn't supposed to work at all today but this morning he'd been called in — something about a fire at an orphanage and an overwhelmed burn unit. While Hiroki certainly didn't want his boyfriend to have to deal with burnt orphans (and especially not on his birthday), it did make it easier to look through all the nook and crannies of the apartment without arising Nowaki's suspicion.

By now, he'd gone through every room in the apartment except for the separate one devoted to Hiroki's extensive book collection — sort of a library, except that Nowaki rarely ever dared to enter and look at any of the myriad of tomes aligning the shelves. He wasn't having much success with his search, however — it probably didn't help that he'd spent a good part of the first hour of the search flipping through various books he hadn't looked at in years, not noticing the clock's hands movement until he had the presence of mind to actually look up from whatever he was reading. He'd begun to sort the books into new categories, too — a task he'd been dreading, but one he knew he'd have to do for the temporary move into his childhood home after the baby came.

Moving back, even temporarily, into the home he'd grown up in felt a bit like a setback, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. There was no way the current apartment could fit Nowaki, him, his books, and a baby, not without an incredible amount of sacrifice and rather cramped living. After long nights with account books — something he never wanted to repeat ever again; numbers had been crawling past his eyelids every time he'd try to sleep for weeks — he and Nowaki had determined they'd be able to own a sufficiently large enough place, in a location that wasn't outright horrible, sometime next year. Somehow, his mother had found this out — Hiroki had a sneaking suspicion Nowaki had _something_ to do with it, but he had no proof — and had started reminding Hiroki, ad infinitum, of the traditional practice of the mother and newborn child moving to the parents house a month before the delivery and two months after. She'd also mentioned that she really wouldn't mind if Nowaki came, too, and if they had to extend their stay for, oh, say a few months, that would be perfectly fine with her. Then she'd started mentioning how much she'd like to help, even in her advanced age, and really, she hoped her granddaughter wasn't going to be as colicky as Hiroki had gotten at four months, and somehow Nowaki had started to agree with her and they were making plans to stay in the house starting in November and going well on into some point in spring.

It was still October, though, so Hiroki had a good month to pack. His mother had given him a list of where the books would go in the house, and how much would fit in each place and the ease of access, so Hiroki had to organize his books by which ones he figured he'd want the most in the coming months, which, really, was quite a pain in the neck. It did, however, help in his search — even without having found the gift yet, he'd managed to find a pair of reading glasses he hadn't seen for several months and an old set of keys he'd had replaced nearly a year ago.

"I'm home!" Nowaki's shout echoed through the hallway and Hiroki nearly cursed — but then came an eureka moment.

"Welcome back!" he shouted in the general direction of the foyer, and quickly — as quickly as he could with all the weight, anyway — reached for those damn Junai Egoist books Akihiko kept sending him, the unrepentant bastard. Those books were to go into the "far out of sight and out of mind" pile —he'd throw them out, but he couldn't bring himself to destroy any type of book, even _those_, and no way in hell was he donating them or selling them. They were also the perfect place to hide something, as they were the last things he'd expect Nowaki to pick up — and even more importantly, if Nowaki did happen to find the gift early, Hiroki would have an excuse to kill him out of sheer embarrassment. Or at least never look him in the eye again.

Sure enough, the present was nudged behind one of the volumes, the really horrendous one with the whipped cream and cock rings. Not that he'd ever read them, or anything like that.

"What are you doing?"

Hiroki nearly jumped out of his skin, but managed to hide the gift behind his back as he turned toward Nowaki.

"Nowaki! I didn't see you there!" His voice sounded too much like a squawk to his own ears, so he stopped talking before he seemed even more suspicious.

Nowaki gave an owlish blink. "Hiro-san, are you hiding something behind your back?"

"No! Certainly not! There is no way I am holding any presents in my hand behind my back!" Hiroki sputtered, his brain sending the message that maybe that wasn't the best way to put it, but his mouth wasn't listening.

It was only a moment later that Nowaki had somehow gotten the present from out of Hiroki's hands. The next moment, Hiroki was looking away, his face heating up like a tea kettle over an open fire.

"Oh, Hiro-san, it's beautiful!" Hiroki didn't say anything or look over; he didn't need to, he could imagine, with blinding clarity, the wide smile that must be on Nowaki's face. "Is that rhodonite?"

"How did you know?" Sure, Hiroki had spent hours researching just what stone to get based on the various meanings assigned to them, but that didn't mean —

"Oh, I had a job selling rings to people for a brief while before I meet you," he said. "The pay wasn't good enough for the hours I had to work, though, so I quit."

A sudden, frightening thought occurred to Hiroki. "Then… do you know what the gemstone signifies… or whatever?"

"Yes, of course," he said, and Hiroki wondered what it would be like if the floor opened up and swallowed him whole. "For Hiro-san, though, I think I'll get kunzite."

"Wait, what?" Hiroki finally turned his head to look at Nowaki, who was grinning brighter than even Hiroki had expected. "Just because you have a ring doesn't mean I need one, too!"

"Oh, but Hiroki, don't usually _both_ members of the wedding party wear rings?"

"Wedding? What the hell! It's not like I'm proposing to you, you numskull! It's more like… I want to spend eternity with you!"

Hiroki nearly choked on the words as he said them, amazed at his amazing ability to completely humilate himself with very little effort. Nowaki met his gaze and, somehow, broke into an even wider grin. "Really, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki just sighed and broke eye contact, his head falling onto Nowaki's chest as he fell forward. "Happy birthday," he murmured, and tried not to grumble as Nowaki kissed the top of his head.

Hours later, after a very satisfying dinner and dessert, and even more satisfying very physical celebration of Nowaki's birthday, Hiroki languidly sat on the floor by the edge of the couch, half-rereading a novel he'd first read as a teenager and perhaps a dozen times since. Nowaki, lying on the couch and humming some theme song of a show that had been canceled years ago, was languidly sifting his hand through Hiroki's hair. It was the kind of thing Hiroki would normally grumble about, but right now he was in too good of a mood to complain. He could feel, on occasion, the coolness of the white gold of Nowaki's new ring — now firmly on the ring finger of his left hand, despite Hiroki's sputtering protests for him to wear it otherwise.

In the midst of the comfortable silence they'd settled into, Nowaki's humming was momentarily interrupted by a sigh, which was enough to make Hiroki put down the book and look up at his boyfriend (he _must_ be in a good mood, if he was so easily referring to him as such), lines of consternation visibly etched on Nowaki's face illuminated in dim light. It made his heart flip unpleasantly (and, for some reason, the baby kicked at the same time, oddly enough).

"What is it?" Hiroki asked, tried not to sounded irritated, but not really succeeding, as usual.

"Hm? Oh, I was just thinking about work."

"Was it that bad?"

Nowaki shifted, his hand stilling, and Hiroki told himself he wasn't annoyed at the cessation of movement. "I've seen worse," Nowaki said, obviously trying to keep his tone light. Hiroki winced; he didn't like the sound of that.

He looked up at him, but Nowaki's gaze was elsewhere. "Nowaki —"

"I picked emergency pediatrics. I knew I'd have to deal with these kind of things."

Hiroki tried to not to sigh. "That doesn't need to stop you from talking about." There was no reply; just the heavy feeling of an incredible somberness permeating the air. "Did someone die?"

"Yes, but that's happened enough that I'm somewhat used to it," he said, and Hiroki could only feel a rise of absolute awe; he'd been aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Nowaki's job involved sickness and death as part of it's bread and butter, but the acknowledgment of that fact made him all the more aware of what Nowaki had to — no, had _chosen_ to — deal with every work day.

"You're used to it?" He could hear the reverence in his tone, and for once, wasn't ashamed of it.

Nowaki just shrugged. "After awhile, you learn how to deal - there's no time for mourning, really, because there's always another patient who needs just as much as the last one did, and their life might just depend on those moments. Even when you're with the parents - you can't break down yourself, you're the one who needs to help them through it, and, really, they have more of a right to break down then you do - you barely knew the patient for a minuscule portion of their lives, and you knew they could be dead soon enough from the moment you met them…" All else was silent as Nowaki audibly swallowed. "But… usually, there is at least… someone…"

For a few moments, Hiroki just observed Nowaki, watched the rise and fall of his chest, listened to the sounds of his heavy breathing lined with sadness, like there was something inside starting to break. It was only when he realized that Nowaki wasn't inclined to continue that he spoke up himself. "Someone…?"

"The heads of the orphanage," Nowaki began after a moment, seemingly staring into nothing, "they were dead on the scene. So when a child died at the hospital… usually, when the parents die first, there's grandparents, or uncles, or someone who actually knew the kid — but this time, there were only government works to report to, ones to create the death certificate and help arrange the oncoming burial. Even the family of the people who headed the orphanage… they were to overcome with grief to really care about the children their loved ones had devoted their lives to." Nowaki swallowed thickly, and his voice started to come out brokenly. "And I wondered… if that had been me, when I was a kid - "

"It's that all you're worrying about?" Hiroki said. Nowaki turned to look at him, surprised. "Look, what's gone is gone and that never happened to you. Anyway, of course there will be people that remember the kids — people like you, who have such a huge heart you have room to care about everyone, even the people you never met." He rolled his eyes. "And anyway, you don't have to worry about being some statistic now — if I ever forgot you and never spoke of you again, goodness knows I'd never forgive my—" He felt his face heat up.

Nowaki laughed. "True, I imagine if I ended up the hospital, they'd have to give you lorezapam just to get you to stop panicking and listen."

Hiroki frowned. "I'm not sure that's so funny."

All he got in response was an answering smile. "Actually, I was imagining the terror on the nurses' faces — remember that time you got jealous while I was at work? The nurses kept speaking about you in frightened whispers for days afterward, they were convinced if anyone so much as looked at me funny, you'd come suddenly from around the corner, ready to attack with your briefcase —"

Nowaki found out that night that despite being several months pregnant, Hiroki could still thwack him over the head with a far amount of force.

* * *

"Y'know, despite the fact they weren't expecting you, you still got quite a number of presents," Hiroki mumbled, his gaze shifting to the small collections of bags and gifts currently occupying the kitchen table. Nowaki had since recovered from the thwacking, and was currently lying down on the couch, a cooling pad on his head where Hiroki had hit him. Hiroki, meanwhile, was guilty sitting on one of the plush living room chairs and contemplating things (Nowaki claimed it was "sulking").

Nowaki gave a bark of laughter. "Yeah, well, it seems some of my coworkers had stored the presents in their lockers for when they next saw me." As Hiroki's gaze traveled back to Nowaki, he noticed a slight smile on his face. "Most of them are baby items, actually."

"So, your coworkers are pretty good when it comes to… it?"

Nowaki paused for a moment. "More or less, yeah. The one's who were really upset about… _things_ transferred to a different hospital, and they found others who were fine with… _it_ to take their place, so everything's okay."

Hiroki nodded. They were lucky that Nowaki's hospital was one of the ones where the board of directors had agreed to allow c-sections on impregnated males; male medical workers at many other hospitals who were pregnant or had a pregnant male partner had been forced to either transfer to another hospital, often to lesser paying positions, or deal with bosses who really didn't want them working there. It wasn't just medical workers, either; that the Dean of Mitsuhashi was so understanding and willing to deal with things — even before his kid got knocked up — was an incredibly fortunate thing for Hiroki. More than one professor or other staff member from other colleges had suddenly joined Mitsuhashi in the last few months, and often they were only able to give them temporary jobs. The "voluntary transfers" weren't illegal as they were more due to peer pressure than anything else.

It could be even worse, though. Only a certain number of countries even had hospitals that would perform the c-sections — meaning there had been a sudden immigration influx in certain countries and an emigration influx in others. That was of the ones who could afford to move — the ones who couldn't were stuck, trying to find someone to perform the surgery or fund them to go elsewhere before the baby "decided" it wanted to be born, as there was a time limit of about twenty-four hours after that happened before the sac burst and killed both the unborn child and the carrying parent. As it was, Hiroki was scheduled for surgery on December 12th, and Nowaki was probably going to start hovering around him a few weeks before that.

It didn't help, either, that Nowaki was forbidden from the c-section - he lacked the surgical experience, and Akihiko had only managed to convince the doctors he was able to be at Takahashi's via some methods unknown to Hiroki that probably weren't entirely legal. Of course, upon founding out that Akihiko had pulled enough strings to maneuver himself into the OR, Nowaki had started to mope around the house, and it had only taken a lot of attention on Hiroki's end to get him into a better mood.

The shrill ringing of the phone brought Hiroki out of his thoughts. "I'll get it," he said, and walked over to the phone, then picked it up and recited the usual greeting.

"_Ah, Hiroki-kun! It's mom. Is Nowaki there? I meant to wish him a happy birthday earlier today but I got so sidetracked…" _

"He's right here," he said as he handed the phone off to Nowaki on the couch, who immediately began to thank his mother.

Hearing only one side of a conversation between Nowaki and his mother wasn't exactly Hiroki's idea of a good time, so he picked the book he'd been sort-of reading back up off the floor and tried to focus on it. It wasn't long, however, before the things Nowaki were saying caught his attention.

"No, I don't think - don't you think that's a bit much? A crib doesn't have to have _real_ gold embellishments; I don't know if that's even safe…"

Hiroki snorted. If his kid ended up horribly spoiled, he knew who to blame it on.


	21. Chapter 14: Terrorist

**A/N: Hi. I'm still around, and still writing. Yay. **

**So… next Terrorist part will probably be part of a chapter featuring a scene from each couple, which will be chapter 19. **

**Chapter title from "Sister, Mother" by Sixpence None the Richer.**

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Hug Him Like a Brother; Kiss Her Like a Sister

Rays of morning light hit Shinobu's eyelids and he groaned, pulling the sheet over his head and attempting to roll over, only to find he couldn't.

He blinked away the sleep from his eyes, his mind hazy and confused. Then he remembered. _Oh, right, having a giant stomach of doom isn't exactly conductive to rolling over. _

In all fairness, Shinobu often forget he wasn't a skinny twig anymore. He mostly avoided the mirror, and even he did see himself in a floor mirror, he had to turn away because it wasn't the image he was used to at all. He'd never even _thought_ he'd look like this, and every time he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror, he felt a unpleasant shiver run down his spine, and an equally unpleasant twisting in his gut.

Sighing, he picked up the specially tailored clothes from his wardrobe and was relieved to see they still fit. He seemed to bust buttons and rip seams every other day.

He checked the time; it was a minute till noon, which meant that the morning rays that had awoken him were the last of the day. It also meant Miyagi wouldn't get home until three, unless he had a meeting. Shinobu paused. He'd have to double check.

Shinobu felt his stomach groan and he followed suit. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," he muttered. Finding something to eat was a pain; the bitter taste he'd been experiencing made it difficult enough to find something he could eat, but he'd also developed a aversion to cabbage. Just tasting the stuff made him vomit. Other things he had problems eating, too - he'd found he could only eat rice plain, for example, and he couldn't stomach most meats. His mother had told him she'd been much the same during both her pregnancies, but that wasn't much comfort. One the other hand, the only craving he was experiencing was for Vegemite, though Miyagi _still_ couldn't find that anywhere in Tokyo. He was seriously considering resorting to ordering it via the Internet, even if Miyagi would freak at the shipping costs.

The "glow" he'd heard came with pregnancy seemed to be more of a gloom for him, a kind of dark tinting to his aura seemed to pervade his every being. The few times he'd looked at his face, all that had stared back at him where blood shot eyes from a strikingly pale face.

The only good thing about the pregnancy so far had been his increased sex drive, and even that came with a caveat. While Miyagi had more than enough stamina to keep up with him, his work meant he lacked time. As it was, Shinobu just wanted to lock him in the apartment 24/7 - like he was forced to be.

There had been the problem, too, that Shinobu didn't really _want _to get undressed. With his body looking like it was, he was ashamed to show anyone what he looked like. Luckily, he gotten over it, after several times of false starts where he ended up crying on Miyagi's shoulder. To the man's credit, Miyagi didn't say anything about it, just held him silently as he wept. They'd been both relieved, though, when Shinobu was finally able to not have a breakdown everytime one of the initiated sex; he was convinced the hormones helped.

As it was, Shinobu thought as he fished through the fridge, for something edible, he'd be relieved once the babies were born and his body belonged to him again.

_Damn, do I sound selfish._

At that moment, the phone rang, distracting Shinobu from his thoughts.

He checked the caller I.D. and was surprised to see it was from a foreign line. Thinking it had to be something important, he picked up the receiver. "Hello, Yoh? It's me, Kaori." The voice was female, and was speaking English with an accent Shinbou identified as from somewhere in North America.

_What the hell? Why would a woman be calling Miyagi? _Shinobu frowned. Well, he could think of one reason… No that couldn't be it, Miyagi hadn't had the time to go overseas. Unless…

Shinobu shrugged off his negative thoughts; it was probably something entirely different from what he suspected; he had to trust Miyagi.

Speaking into the receiver in English, he said, "Miyagi's not here right now. Who is this?" The last line had come out unintentionally accusatory; he winced at the tone.

"Me? I'm Yoh's sister."

Shinobu blinked. He wasn't expecting that. "Miyagi doesn't have a sister."

There was a pause. "Yes, he does. I should know, because that's me."

Shinobu's throat felt oddly dry. "Prove it."

The person on the other end sighed. "From what I've been told, Yoh had his first taste of alcohol when he was six months old. He was teething, so Grandma Miyagi rubbed some plum wine on his gums as an anesthetic. My mother was furious until she realized it worked."

"But Miyagi hates plum wine."

"Well, he does _now… _my mother seems to blame his aversion on the time he found my mother's stash and got drunk when he was six. From what I understand, mother never bought alcohol into the house after that."

Shinobu frowned. It sounded believable - it certainly explained the time Miyagi had woken up after a nightmare and started muttering about the evils of plum wine and stupid six-year-olds - but that didn't explain why Miyagi never mentioned he had a sister. Not that Shinobu had ever asked, exactly, but it was surely one of those things that would come up at some point. "You could be making this all up."

The voice sighed again. "I have a grandmother who's obsessed with the color blue and never remarried after my grandfather died in the war."

Well, _that_ wasn't made up. "Okay, I believe you. I think. But Miyagi never mentioned you - "

She snorted. "Yeah, well, I'd never thought to mention him to my girlfriend until grandma called me, and Tara and I have been together since my freshman year of undergrad."

"What? Wait, she called you- about Miya - er, your brother?"

There was a pause. "I have two brothers, y'know."

"Huh?"

"But yeah, she called about the brother of mine who isn't my twin."

Shinobu felt like his head was starting to spin in a never-ending pattern of spirals. Miyagi had two sibling he never mentioned? What the hell?

"Anyway, I'm calling because… er, wait a second, what's your name?"

"Shinobu. Takatsuki Shinobu," he mumbled.

"Takatsuki? That sounds oddly familiar…"

"Y - your older brother was married to my sister."

"Oh, okay. I missed that wedding… was too busy with finals and ignoring the rest of the world… anyway, can I ask you something, Shinobu?"

"Okay."

"Are you pregnant?"

Shinobu pulled the receiver away from his head an stared at it, wondering how she could tell this through the phone. He pulled the receiver back to his ear. "Um, yeah, actually, I am."

"And it's Yoh's?"

Shinobu felt himself bristle at the question. "They're his, yeah."

There was yet another pause; Shinobu resisted the urge to slam down the phone and eat a gallon of… something. "Multiples? Good luck with that. Anyway, the point of this call… well, my grandmother, she called me and kinda hinted that Yoh had gotten his boyfriend pregnant. Over several phone calls, actually, but that's not the point - "

"How do you know about male pregnancy?" he interrupted, his voice coming out higher than he meant it too. If Grandma Miyagi had told -

"Huh? Oh, it's an open secret here in Vancouver. Not that the government will admit it exists, or anything."

"Right, so uh, Grandma Miyagi unintentionally told you…"

"Oh, yeah, right. Well, my main concern is about my dad." He could hear her take a deep breath before she spoke again. "It's just, uh, I don't think my brother is aware of the extent of his issues."

"Huh?"

"Well, he wasn't exactly happy when I came out to him. He blew a gasket, rather. Said I disgraced him and the Miyagi, said I just commit Seppuku to save it - he wasn't entirely serious about that, I'm sure, but the sentiment definitely wasn't faked. I had no idea he'd react like that. He still hasn't talked to me again, though mom says she's working him over. Anyway, I thought I should warn him - "

"Thanks," Shinobu said. If what she said was true, he wasn't exactly looking forward to meeting Miyagi's old man.

"I don't know how you're planning to deal with the whole family name thing, but I think if Yoh wants my father to ever speak to him again, he should _really_ consider giving one of his kids the Miyagi name. Especially if one of them is a boy."

"I'll keep that in mid." He and Miyagi had decided not to know the sex of the babies before hand, but he could still…

"Anyway, let him know I called, at least. He should call me back sometime in the next century, if he can."

"Wait!" Shinobu shouted on impulse. "I… uh…"

"What is it? Spit it out."

"Can we… uh, talk?" Shinobu felt his face burn. "It's just, I've been stuck in this apartment for awhile, and will continue to be, and don't see many people - I mean, Miyagi's great and all, mostly, and I do love my family, but that's four people total… and I should probably practice my English…. Though you're calling long distance so I really shouldn't keep you - "

"No, it's fine. I understand. My phone has the same rate for international and domestic, so I'm fine. I've got plenty of minutes to use and an hour to kill. So, what do you want to talk about?"

Shinobu paused. He felt like his family circle was quickly widening. He took a deep breath. "So, you have a twin brother?"

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me you have younger siblings?"

Miyagi blinked. He'd just gotten home from work, had literally just taken his shoes off, and Shinobu was blocking the way from the entryway to the living area, glaring at him with his arms folded over his chest, just above his swollen abdomen. Months ago, he'd have been able to get past Shinobu easily, but with the extra weight he was a formidable roadblock. He really couldn't just shove Shinobu aside, either; at least, not without stirring an odd feeling of guilt in his gut.

Shinobu hadn't stopped scowling at him, though, so he thought back to the question that was causing Shinobu so much consternation in the first place. _Oh. _Kaori and Kenta were not people Miyagi thought about often; he had nearly fifteen when they were born, and he'd already had a tendency to spend as much time as he could outside the small house that was his childhood home - it was rather claustrophobic, and he was already hitting his rebellious stage, aiming to piss off his parents as much as possible without them figuring out that was his goal.

_Now that I think about it, that might not bode well for the future. _

He started. "Well, um… er… "

"And they're a set of twins, too! You should have at least mentioned them when I told you we were having twins!"

"I should have?" His siblings had been the last things on his mind when Shinobu had bought in that bit of news. Cursing the universe seemed a much more appropriate mental thought process at the time.

Shinobu just rolled his eyes. "Yes! I was so confused when I first heard your sister's voice when I picked up the phone!"

"Kaori called? What, why?"

Shinobu's anger seemed to still for a moment. He shifted from one foot to the other and bit his underlip. "To warn us — apparently, your dad went apoplectic when she introduced her girlfriend of six years, Tara."

"Wait, she has a girlfriend?"

"Yep. They're talking about getting married once they both finish their masters."

Miyagi tried not to gape. He hadn't known Kaori was working on a masters, never mind everything else. "I, er, don't talk to her much."

Shinobu snorted. "Apparently."

"Hey, every time she she calls she makes me speak in English just because she feels like it! Her mother tongue is Japanese — why should we have to talk to each other in English?"

"That's the worst defense I ever heard! She's your sister! You're supposed to talk to her! I bet you don't even know your brother is working for a software firm in Osaka!"

"Um…" Miyagi had the sinking feeling this conversation was going a place that would not be good for him, and he wasn't exactly sure how to save himself.

"How can you be so out of touch with your siblings?" Shinobu was sulking, glaring at Miyagi with an adorably teary face. "Doesn't family matter to you?"

"Of course it does, Shinobu-chin. I've just been so… distracted by work…"

That certainly didn't help matters. Shinobu just got a pissed off look, the kind that meant that Miyagi would be walking on eggshells around him for however long he needed to.

"So work is more important to you than family?"

"Of course not — "

But Shinobu wasn't listening anymore. "Will it be more important than our family, too?"

Miyagi was at a loss. He had no idea how Shinobu had come to that conclusion, and told him so.

"You're a jerk!" was all he got in response, and the sound of a very angry door slam.

Miyagi sighed as he carded a hand through his hair, sinking into the sofa. Perhaps that hadn't been the best response…

* * *

The knocking on the door was insistent, unceasing in its rhythm. Shinobu had been trying to ignore it, preferring instead to search for food yet again, because between answering the door and stopping his stomach from feeling like a yawning cavern, the latter took priority. Also, he really didn't want to talk to anyone.

"Go away," he said to the door, finally, and the knocking finally stopped.

It was however, followed by a fair more annoying noise: his sister's voice. "Shinobu, open up."

"No, go away."

There was a pause. "I have food."

Shinobu considered this for a moment. "What kind of food?"

"Tempura, gyoza, and mochi for desert."

He slightly opened the door. The smell of freshly cooked food wafted towards his nose. Risako wasn't holding take out containers, which meant she'd made it herself, probably. "What type of tempura?"

"Shrimp," she answered. "And enough for several people. You can keep the leftovers."

Shinobu deemed this acceptable and opened the door, stepping back to allow his sister entrance into the apartment.

"Where's Miyagi?" she asked as they headed into the kitchen. Shinobu just glared at her as she set the food down on the countertop.

"Out," was all he said as he helped himself to some rice. Risako gave him a quizzical look, but he chose to ignore it.

"What did he do this time?" she asked instead as they sat down at the table.

Shinobu picked up his chopsticks. "He was an idiot," he said.

"That's nothing new," she murmured.

Shinobu looked up and glared at her. No one should be able to insult Miyagi but him, especially his sister. "Did he tell you he has two siblings?"

"Yeah. Kaori and… Ken-something, yes? They were at the guest list for the wedding, but they declined to come. They were both busy studying overseas, I think. Why?"

Shinobu didn't answer, just glared at his food as he ate it slowly, pissed off that his sister knew more about Miyagi's family than he did.

Suddenly, the sound of a door scraping against the floor as it swung open entered the house. "I'm home," Miyagi's voice called out from the entryway.

"Welcome home," Risako replied, much to Shinobu's annoyance. He glared at her; she rolled her eyes. "Well, you weren't about to say anything."

"Huh? Oh, hello, Risako," Miyagi said as he entered the dining area. "You bought food?"

"Yep. Figured I'd be a good sister to my darling little brother," she said, and Shinobu almost choked on the rice.

"Well, that's something new," he remarked. "I didn't think you were capable of it."

"Excuse me?" she said, putting down her chopsticks for a moment. "Who was the one who called up an ambulance for her brother who had just fainted on the bathroom floor? Who was the one who stayed with him the entire time he was there, up until he was taken in the ambulance, to make sure his pulse was still going?" Shinobu just glowered at her. Having made her point, she picked up her chopsticks and began eating again. "Besides, _you _were the one who emptied out several bottles of my limited edition watermelon nail polish on your walls."

Shinobu relaxed; this was by far more familiar territory. "You were the one who replaced my shampoo with fish oil." He winced at the memory of the pungent smell, just as strong as it had been years ago.

"Well, you were the one who decided to, I don't know, put a strangely smelling substance in his hair, despite the fact that the shampoo never smelled like that before. Besides, what nine year old boy demands their parents buy them a very specific expensive shampoo made from green tea leaves?" She paused for a moment, considering. "And anyway, that was _after _you hid all my clothes while I was in the shower."

"Hey, that was because you dismembered all my action figures and buried them! I never even found some of their limbs."

"But before that, you deliberately locked yourself in my room, snuck out the window, and sealed it shut. I'd lost the key ages ago; I had to have dad call a locksmith just to get to sleep." She considered the piece of gyoza between her chopsticks, took a bite, and said, "besides, you started it all when you chased me around a knife."

"I was three years old! Besides, _you_ were the one who left out the chef knife and watched a slasher film when you were supposed to be watching me."

"You did _what_?" For some reason, Miyagi had deemed it time to say something. Shinobu felt a sweltering of some warm fuzzy feeling at the fact that he was taking his side (of course he was, he side was the _right_ side).

"You were supposed to be asleep," Risako said, choosing to ignore him. "Boy, I hope your kids aren't as bad a brother and a sister as we were."

There was a ringing silence as Shinobu joined Miyagi in staring at his sister. Why did she assume - ?

"Wait, you guys didn't know?" She titled her head and bit her underlip, her face taking on the same guilty look it had every time she'd pulled a prank on Shinobu (which was why, of course, he always knew it was her fault). "Then why does mom? Don't they have privacy rules about that?"

Miyagi coughed, and shoulders hunched. "Uh, I might have let the doctor talk to her." At Risako's incredulous look, he added, "she kept bugging about! Even at work! The Dean even started to beg me to let her talk to the obstetrician!"

"Yeah, that does sound like mom," Risako muttered. Something clicked in Shinobu's brain.

He turned to look at Miyagi. "Wait… so we're really having a boy and a girl? Risako wasn't just assuming?"

"You're a bit slow on the uptake for someone studying law at Teito University," Risako said in an amused drawled and Shinobu turned and glared at her.

"Hey, I was the one who was clever enough at seven to figure out what piece of gossip to tell his sister's boyfriend to get him to break-up with her after she threw out my book collection," he pointed out.

Risako's face drained of color. "You did that_ on purpose_?"

Oops. Perhaps that hadn't been the best piece of information to prove his incredible observation skills. "…Maybe."

His sister's face began to take on a rather purple color. "You - "

"What _exactly_ did he say?" Miyagi asked, interrupting Risako's sudden inclination of rage.

Somehow, she managed to blush. "Uh…"

"I overheard her on the phone talking to one of her friends about him." Shinobu contemplated eating another piece of teriyaki, then decided he could wait. "She said a lot of things, but even though I wasn't quite sure what it meant, I decided to rely the information to him that she'd found him to be 'smaller than expected'."

Miyagi started on a coughing-laughing fit that made his own face go almost-purple; in the meantime, Risako bit her underlip before glaring at Shinobu.

"That really wasn't fair. Those books were falling apart."

"Because I read them so much!"

Miyagi managed to stop snickering enough to opine, very solemnly, "honestly, Risako, I think you got off rather lightly." He nodded to himself. "After all, they were _books_. Nothing is more important than the written word."

Risako stood up, looking at them both like they were dual-headed sea monsters. The slimy kind. "You're both out of your minds!" She just shook her head. "I'm leaving."

"Thanks for the food," Shinobu called out as she walked out the door. "I hope your next boyfriend is just as large as you expect."

Miyagi went back to guffawing as the door slammed shut.

Hours later, when they'd both eaten their fill and stored the leftovers, Miyagi made the point they he should probably apologize to Risako.

"I was a bit cruel," Shinobu agreed after a moment's consideration. "Plus the gyoza she made was really good."

Miyagi shifted in his seat on the sofa where he was semi-reading some sort of novel. "Hey, did Risako say anything about me? That you overheard or something?"

Shinobu side-eyed him for a moment. "Well, everything she said before the divorce translated in my head to 'ha ha, I married your soul mate and now you'll never be happy' in my head, and everything after was incredibly negative, so…"

Miyagi gave him an odd look himself. "Huh." He was about to go back to actually reading his book, but he stopped at the last second and looked back over at Shinobu. "By the way… why _did_ you put your sister's nail polish on the walls?"

Shinobu shrugged. "I thought my bedroom was a boring color," he said. Miyagi's eyes went wide and he shuddered. "What?"

"Nothing much. I just had a feeling of foreboding come over me, that's all."

Shinbou shook his head. "Whatever."


	22. Chapter 15, Part 1: Romantica

**A/N: LOOK I'M STILL AROUND. AND UPDATING. CELEBRATE.**

**So, this chapter is Romantica, split into two parts, and is a chapter where you get to see how utterly sappy I can be. Hope it pleases. Next Romantica part will be the chapter after this one, actually - chapter 16. **

**Criticism always welcome. **

**Chapter title taken from The Fray's "Happiness". **

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Happiness is Just Outside My Window

"The forecast for the next five days is snow, snow, and more snow..."

Misaki frowned as he looked out the window; the first snow of winter had yet to fall, but it looked like it was about to, which wasn't exactly what he wanted to see. His c-section was scheduled to be in eleven days, on the thirtieth; the blizzard to come was supposed to be the first of several heavy snowfalls, and he wasn't exactly ecstatic about the prospect of having to ride in Usagi's sports car through that kind of weather. He'd chosen the date because it would be a Sunday, and therefore his brother could be there without a problem; as it was, he was technically already at term, but the doctors had recommended a date in late November or early December to make sure the baby would be at the best possible health.

There was a risk that the baby might try to be born earlier - the problem was there was no way to get it out naturally, and drugs used to delay delivery didn't seem to work on the few men that'd had that happen to them. As long as the baby was delivered within twenty-four hours of the first indication of pain, everything would be fine. Even that risk, though, wasn't a great enough risk to make them schedule the c-section for the moment he came to term.

"Due to the potential snowfall, the government has advised all citizens to stay indoors and off the roads if possible, and to only go out in case of emergency. All public transport will soon be making half the amount of usual trips in anticipation of the extreme weather conditions..."

Misaki sighed and clicked off the weather report. It wouldn't do him good to worry about this. Usagi was upstairs, finishing off a manuscript for his final deadline before the baby was born; after that, he didn't have to worry about deadlines again until late January.

This was a good thing, because Usagi had done plenty of research — about the pregnancy, delivery, and after — and had apparently decided what he wanted to happen was different then how things were usually done in Japan. This had caused him to go to multiple doctors to find one to perform the c-section that would acquiesce to his every request; they'd left more than one appointment with an angry doctor glaring at their backs, Usagi fuming and Misaki blushing and utterly mortified, almost feeling sorry for the doctor. Finally they had learned that their prenatal physician had an identical twin sister who was particularly skilled at c-sections, was very willing to work with the parents, and was very used to dealing with foreigners — which really, was how Usagi was acting, now that he thought about.

Usagi had decided that since he wouldn't have any work to do and it wasn't like he worked at an office anyway, he would... "not allow myself to be away from my precious Misaki for an hour". Not that Misaki had memorized exactly what he'd said or anything. He'd also demanded, for some reason, that the baby would stay in the same room as them from the very first day at all ; when Misaki had pointed out that he was pretty much requesting they had to be the ones taking care of the kid from day one, Usagi had said that was the point, since it was their kid, after all.

It gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest just thinking about it.

His final request, the one the other doctors had objected to the most strongly, had been to be able to be in the operating room when the baby was delivered. After much discussion (and possibly some bribes, though Usagi had just ignored him when he asked about that) the doctor had been able to procure some scrubs for him to wear, which meant that, no surprise, Usagi had gotten every one of his demands met.

It wasn't like Misaki had a problem with them, though. It was nice, really, that Usagi wanted to be so active in the baby's life from the very beginning — a relief from what Misaki had been worried would happen: complete disinterest.

Though, if he was honest to himself, he was still worried: it wasn't unlike Usagi to be strongly interested in something and then cast it aside when he got bored of it. The marimo, the Wall of China replica — they were just some of the evidence of Usagi's sometimes pitifully short attention span. If, after the baby was born, he decided it was too much work and not enough reward, so to speak, or if it lost its gleam after a week or so, Misaki — well, he wouldn't be _happy _about it, that was certain.

But then again, Usagi didn't really seem to lose interest in _people_. He'd been with Misaki for four years now, and he'd been friends with Misaki's brother for around four times that, and his friendship with Kamijou-sensei was even longer — there weren't many people Usagi could really stand being around for a lengthy period of time, but for those he could, he had no problem keeping them close.

Misaki just hoped the baby would fall into the smaller, rather exclusive group.

He knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it, though, so there was no reason to worry about it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself, but in the increasingly common lull of the day, his thoughts seemed to drift to every last stress and worry, especially about Usagi.

Misaki shook his head and got up, waddling — as much as he hated to admit it, that really was his gait now — over to the kitchen to see if he could start preparing lunch. In the last month, his food preparation had gotten a lot simpler, if only because preparing elaborate meals while being kicked in the gut wasn't exactly his idea of fun. Manami had recommended he prepare some meals for the first few weeks after the baby came, when he was still recovering from surgery, so he had a meal or two in the freezer, waiting for the coming weeks. He planned to spend a day preparing food sometime closer to the delivery date, so it would be a bit fresher. His brother and Manami had both offered to bring over food during December and into January, and while he didn't want to be a burden on them, his brother had pretty much said that it would _more_ burdensome for him not to bring over food, what with all the worrying he'd be doing over the state of his little brother and best friend.

_And niece or nephew, _Misaki reminded himself as he fished grabbed a sharp knife out of the utensil drawer, preparing to chop up daikon for some oden, which would be perfect for the cold of the first snowfall.

Right as he'd begun the first cut into the vegetable, he felt a sudden sting of pain in the abdominal region. _Oh shit_, he thought, and hoped like hell it would go away.

Instead, a second sting of pain came, this time more intense and longer in duration. He managed to put down the knife before the pain overwhelmed him and he slowly lowered himself to the floor. _Fuck. _As another wave of pain come upon him, he knew he wasn't going to be able to get up by himself anytime soon. With his heart pounding so loud he could hear the echo of blood in his ears, he felt his mouth drop open as he let out a scream.

_Please be okay_, he thought, hands shaking as he held his stomach. _Please._

* * *

The scream had hit Akihiko's ears just as he was finishing off the penultimate chapter of his upcoming novel. He quickly saved and rushed downstairs, his heart beating so hard it hurt.

On the floor in the kitchen was Misaki, curled up and whimpering, tears forming in his eyes as he clutched his stomach. Akihiko had the sudden urge to claw apart something, as if that could stop whatever was happening now.

"Usagi-san, the pain... I think... call an ambulance..."

He didn't. He knew what was happening now, and he couldn't guarantee the EMTs would be unbiased toward Misaki, that they would treat him with the same care as they would a woman in labor. Maybe he was being paranoid, but his car could do a hundred to zero kmph in four seconds, and it only took one trip, not two. "I'll help you get to my car."

Misaki looked at him incredulously, but then winced and whimpered again, and nodded. He placed his hand against the floor to pull himself up, and Akihiko grabbed his arm, allowing Misaki to lean on him as they made their way to the elevator.

In the time it took to get to the car, Akihiko felt as though he was going collapse twice from the anxiety overwhelming him, but he forced himself on, for Misaki's sake. Misaki collapsed into the passenger side seat the moment he opened the door, and Akihiko adjusted the seat into a reclining position for him. Misaki whispered a "thank you" before he grunted and clenched his teeth against the pain; Akihiko slammed the door and got into the driver's seat as quickly as he could, revving the engine and speeding out of the garage as fast as he could legally get away with.

Outside, the snow had just begun to fall.

The streets were mercifully empty, with few vehicles daring to brave the risk of getting caught in the oncoming blizzard. Akihiko drove as fast as he could without risking their lives.

Misaki whimpered. Akihiko looked at him via the rear-view window; tears were forming in Misaki's eyes, though he was blinking them back, trying to prevent them from falling.

"Misaki, talk to me," he said while keeping his eyes on the road.

"Huh?"

"To distract yourself from the pain," he explained as he dared to speed up a bit on a long stretch of road. "Say anything that doesn't involve it."

For a moment, there was a silence, and Akihiko figured Misaki thought his advice was silly, but then he spoke. "It's snowing. It's very pretty, the snow; I thought there'd be more coming down, but I guess this is just the beginning." A pause, and Akihiko felt relief was over him as he saw the sign indicating the hospital was near. "It was snowing, too, wasn't it, on Niichan's birthday, when we both cried and kissed for the first time. And then, on our first Christmas Eve, it snowed; I remember watching it out the window after we..." Misaki coughed. "Anyway, it was also snowing when I told Takahiro about us... and on your birthday that one year, come to think of it, though that —"

"We're here," Akihiko interrupted him, slowing down the best he could to prevent whiplash, though he still found himself gripping Misaki's shoulder as he parked in one of the open parking spaces.

A woman in a white coat was running toward the car, an attendant with a wheelchair behind her. Akihiko hit the button to unlock the car doors. "Misaki, can you open the door?" Misaki grunted and pushed the door open just as the doctor closed in on them.

"Takahashi-san, how long have you been in pain?" The doctor didn't waste any time.

"Urgh... um, fifteen minutes? Half an hour? Usagi-san found me as soon as the pain started..." Misaki moaned again, hand on his abdomen, but the doctor looked significantly relieved at this, which helped settle the butterflies that had recently taken up residence in Akihiko's stomach.

"Has there been any vomiting, weakness, fatigue lately?"

"No," Misaki moaned, "just the pain."

The doctor smiled, clearly relieved. Akihiko felt himself relax involuntarily into the cool leather seat. "That's good news, Takahashi-san; we can keep you awake during delivery, we'll just numb the lower half of your body, okay?"

Misaki nodded. "Numb? No sensation?"

"No pain," the doctor confirmed, smiling lightly, and Misaki sat up, wincing.

"Please," he said, practically begging — Akihiko had been delighted when he'd heard that tone on more than one occasion in the confines of their bedroom, but he sure as hell didn't want to hear it now — and the doctor just nodded, gripping Misaki's shoulder and opposite hand to help him out of the car. Akihiko grabbed the arm closest to him to help him get out; the doctor mouthed a thank you. In a few moments, Misaki was out of the car, and Akihiko had quickly followed suit.

The attendant gripped the handles of the wheelchair Misaki was in, pivoting it around and toward the hospital entrance. "Let's get this baby out of you, Takahashi-san," the doctor said and Misaki nodded as they started into the hospital.

Akihiko took a moment to steady himself. That's right, they were here so their child could be born. By the end of today, he'd be a father. _Holy shit._

Misaki turned his head around to look at him. "Usagi-san..."

Akihiko brought himself back to Earth, then swiftly walked forward and reached Misaki, his stomach doing backflips and somersaults and cartwheels, and began to walk next to the wheelchair, holding Misaki's hand as they entered the building, where nurses and interns and other personnel were gathered, holding blood pressure cuffs and whatever else they might need to examine Misaki before the procedure. Akihiko took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves that were making him shake. Misaki squeezed his hand. He looked down at him; Misaki was giving him a small, nervous smile. He tried his best to smile back, even though he felt it conveyed more nervousness than Misaki's did.

"Usami-sensei." He turned around to look at the doctor. "There are a few forms you have to sign to get Takahashi-san checked in. After that, we'll give you the scrubs you need to change into to witness the surgery."

Akihiko nodded, his throat dry as he watched Misaki be wheeled off to the OR. He barely registered what they were telling him as he signed wherever they pointed, his hand seemingly moving on autopilot. They led him into a locker room to get changed, quiet and dark except for the hurried sound of his own breathing. He took quick strides as he exited the room and followed them to the OR, a surreal feeling of irreality overcoming him as they opened the door to the room where the baby — his child — was to be born.

Misaki was lying on the operating table, covered in blankets and hooked up to IVs, a curtain over his abdomen. There were monitors beeping everywhere, screens displaying numbers and lines as they monitored Misaki's body. Some medical professional sat to Misaki's right, watching an IV. Misaki looked utterly terrified, like he might just pass out; then he looked over at Akihiko and visibly relaxed.

"Usami-sensei, there's a chair for you to sit on next to Takahashi-san," one of the personnel told him as they scrubbed up. He braced himself, breathing slowly, then managed to walk to the chair and sit down without fainting, which he considered an accomplishment at this point. The doctor — anesthesiologist, he realized — was asking Misaki questions, probably to make sure everything was okay, but Misaki didn't look away from Akihiko's gaze as he answered the man's queries. Akihiko took Misaki's left hand, the one nearest to him, in his own palm; Misaki's was hot and sweaty and trembling, and Akihiko realized that, for once, his was, too.

He wanted to tell Misaki it would be okay, but his voice was caught in his throat and he knew he couldn't convince Misaki of something he wasn't sure of himself, so he just sat there, his free hand stroking Misaki's cheek in an effort to calm them both.

"We're beginning the incision, Takahashi-san," Akihiko heard the doctor call out from where she was behind the curtain, and Misaki gulped and nodded. Akihiko squeezed his hand again.

For several agonizing minutes, there wasn't much noise, and he felt like he was the precipice of something, like if he divided his life into parts this would be the transition stage, not just to a new chapter, but a new novel. (_The Life of Usami Akihiko_, volume... six?)

Then the doctor called out to him, telling him to stand up and look over the curtain.

If there was ever a moment to cause Akihiko to faint, this would be it. Luckily, his reaction didn't involve losing consciousness, just trembling; for a moment, he had to remind himself how to breathe.

In the surgeon's hands was his child — his son, he quickly realized. Time seemed to stand still. They were suctioning fluid from the infant's nose and mouth, a normal procedure after a c-section, Akihiko had discovered during his research. Then came a cry from the baby's mouth — his son's mouth —, a high-pitched wail, and Akihiko was aware of the rest of the world again. The doctors lifted up the boy so Misaki could see, shouted out the baby's sex, then performed tests, placing something in the newborn's nose that caused him to grimace. All around Akihiko, the medical personal were saying things — "apgar seven at one minute"_,_ asking him if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord — he nodded, feeling as though he was separated from his body somehow, like he was watching himself cut the already clamped cord, watching as they cleaned off his son —_ his son_ — then wrapped him up and put him in his arms. He came back down from wherever he was, looked at the child in his embrace who had just been crying his eyes out, but was slowly becoming far more calm; Akihiko felt terrified that he might drop him.

Someone was speaking to him. He realized it was a nurse, telling him they needed to evaluate the baby, please follow her to the nursery —

Akihiko turned to look at Misaki, to make sure he was okay. Misaki was mouthing something to him; something -_hiko_. Not Akihiko, he quickly realized. He watched the way Misaki's lips formed the first part.

_Yukihiko._

Having gotten the message, he nodded at Misaki, who smiled at him; there were tears in Misaki's eyes and maybe in his too, he wasn't sure. He turned back toward the nurse, following her as he kept the child — his son — Yukihiko safe in his arms, and for a moment, he was afraid he'd never want to let him go.


	23. Chapter 15, Part 2: Romantica

3201 grams. That was one more gram then Misaki had weighed when he was born, and he'd been born closer to his actual due date than Yukihiko had.

Misaki frowned. He'd weighed a nice round number when he was born, but of course his son just had to have an extra gram didn't he? It was Usagi's influence, he knew it.

The fact that Yukihiko had fallen asleep only seconds after he'd been put in Misaki's arms was Usagi's influence too, he was sure of it. The nurses and doctor had told him it was normal, that newborns were naturally tired for their first few days of life, but he knew better.

Of course, Usagi insisted that that line of thinking was due to jealousy, since the baby had been wide awake the entire time Usagi had held him. But that was ridiculous! Misaki wasn't jealous! Even if his son had been sleeping for several hours now...

Though, really, Misaki found it was still kinda strange thinking of the baby as his. He hadn't expected it to happen this early, and the lower half of his body was still mercifully numb, so it was difficult for his brain to accept this baby had been taken from his body only a few hours ago. The entire experience was surreal, like some kind of dream he half expected to wake up from. It didn't help that Usagi had left to fill out paperwork or something along those lines, and, really, it only made the experience more unreal when Misaki saw Usagi's behavior. Not that he minded — quite the opposite in fact, he'd been relieved to see the loving acceptance in Usagi's eyes when he looked at Yukihiko. Heck, he'd been more than relieved; his heart had nearly burst with warmth and it had taken a ridiculous amount of effort not to let all the tears that had formed in his eyes fall. But... it was still kinda odd to him. Wasn't he supposed to be the responsible, more parent-like one? Wasn't Usagi supposed to be the self-centered, overgrown child?

The sound of a door clicking open interrupted Misaki's thoughts. He looked up to see the grinning face of his brother, bags in hand.

"Niichan!" Misaki called out. His brother wasn't supposed to be here today; it was a weekday, after all, and work had let out — he glanced at the clock — five seconds ago. "Niichan! Why aren't you at work?"

Takahiro stopped short and smiled. "They let us out not long after the snow started." His smile widened. "Which was wonderful for me, since it gives me a chance to see my new nephew!"

How did his brother know — he heard footsteps and looked past Takahiro to see Usagi standing in the doorway, a rolled-up futon under his left arm, a satchel slung over his right shoulder, and Suzuki, wearing a blue bow Misaki didn't remember putting on her, clutched against his body. "How's he doing?"

Misaki was confused for a moment, but Takahiro answered for him. "Looks like he's still sleeping."

"Yeah, he hasn't been awake since he's been in my arms," Misaki said, trying not to sound _too _annoyed, but his voice came out sounding rather whiny.

Takahiro laughed. "Trust me, Misaki, you'll soon be _glad_ to see him sleeping. He'll be awake more than you'll even want him to be." He sat down in the chair by Misaki's bedside. "So, how did you decide on his name?"

Misaki blushed. "Well, since it was snowing — "

"Wait, I thought you guys used the kanji for happiness?"

"Well, yeah. The stroke count was wrong for snow, but the happiness kanji worked just fine. But it's the same sound, so..." Misaki would have shrugged, but the baby was still sleeping, and he didn't want to disturb him.

Takahiro still looked confused. "Wait, so you named him based on today's weather?"

Misaki felt his face burn. "Well, no, there were other events that took place while it was snowing - like, uh..."

"Our first kiss," Usagi said, having settled into the open space farthest from the door. Next to him was Suzuki; now that he could see the ribbon more properly, it appeared to be adorned with images of pacifiers and rattles. "And during our first Christmas Eve together..."

"Wait, how long after Misaki moved in did you guys get together?" Takahiro asked, blinking like a very confused owl.

Misaki's heart beat so fast he was amazed it didn't wake the baby up. "Well, Niichan, you see— "

"On your twenty-ninth birthday," Usagi said, dully.

"Would you like to hold your nephew, Niichan?" Misaki said, quickly, before his brother could really process that. He was going to _kill _Usagi...

"Of course!" Takahiro said, his face splitting into a wide grin that befitted either a drugged-up clown or a crazed axe murderer. _They must have put me on the strong drugs, _Misaki thought as he examined his thoughts before he handed over his son.

Almost as soon as he was in his uncle's arms, Yukihiko blinked awake, cuing Misaki to stare with his jaw open, some strange part of him suddenly fearing for his future.

His brother gave a light, slightly nervous chuckle upon seeing his face. Misaki felt his shoulders tense, but then he felt a cool hand on his right shoulder and relaxed.

He felt Usagi's breath by his ear, tickling his earlobe and making him blush. "He just is so easily lulled to sleep by the comforting beat of your heart, Misaki."

He could feel his face warming up along with his heart. "Silly Usagi," he muttered. Then he looked back at his son's eyes; they were an odd greyish-blue color. "Why are his eyes that color, anyway?"

"You had eyes that color at birth, actually," Takahiro said.

"I did, too, I believe," Usagi added, his voice a pleasantly low rumble that Yukihiko seemed to perk up at.

"Mine were dark at birth, and stayed that way. Mahiro's, too," his brother said. He looked down into his nephew's eyes and smiled. "Don't worry, it's normal."

His gaze went back to Misaki. "Speaking of Mahiro, I should, get back to him and Manami," he said, "so I'll just give this little one back to his — er —"

"_Father_," Misaki said, trying to keep the venom out of his voice. He considered it for a moment as Yukihiko was placed back in his arms. "Right, Usagi-san?"

He raised a brow. "Not unless you want it to be otherwise."

"No, I don't." He frowned as he contemplated his son, who, thankfully, was still awake. "But how will he differentiate — ?"

"We're worry about that bridge when we come to it," Usagi replied, his voice a warm mummer.

"Sounds good," Misaki said, and felt himself settling into the warmth.

It was going to be a long road ahead.

Akihiko had always been a night person. As a child, he had lain in bed for hours, listening to the subdued sounds of the night as he'd desperately tried to will himself to sleep; when he'd awoke it had been to the sounds of one of the servants or an alarm clock, and he'd always felt like he'd rather hibernate for the next five years than open his eyes. It hadn't changed much when he'd gotten older, with the exception, like most things, when it came to Misaki. He'd found he could force himself awake not long after daybreak if it meant more time with Misaki, because spending time with the one he loved was more important to him than sleep. Even if Misaki woke him up, his desire wasn't to kill him, but to fuck him, though Misaki seemed to think this was the same thing.

Anyway, the point was, Akihiko had never been one to be defined as a morning person, and, for once, this seemed to be of some use. After three days of mostly sleeping — especially when he was in Misaki's arms, much to his chagrin — Yukihiko had apparently decided he wanted to spend more time awake and looking at things. The exact times he was awake varied, to the point where Akihiko had taken to a familiar night schedule so that when the baby woke up at, say, three in the morning, Misaki wouldn't be looking like he wanted to commit bloody murder while holding his son.

_His son. _The two words were still just as beautiful and terrifying as they had been when he first thought them, the anxiety and wonder still running through his veins at the thought. He was getting better, though: every day they managed to get through without some sort of crisis increased his confidence and hope just a little bit.

Still, there were years ahead of him to mess up and make mistakes, and hell, he hoped that whatever he did didn't do any permanent damage. The last thing he wanted for his son was to resent him as deeply as he did his own father, never mind his mother.

At that thought, he ran a hand through the hair; it was two AM and one day before they had to leave the hospital, and he was already anticipating having to deal with his family. It didn't matter if he tried to keep things secret; he feared that, somehow, they'd find things out; they always did, even if only by serendipity. He snorted. Not serendipity, really - more like zemblanity. Akihiko just hoped there would be a significant amount of time before he had to really deal with them and their attempts to control his life. The last thing he wanted for his son was a controlling, manipulative grandfather who used him for whatever purposes he deemed necessary, despite whatever desires the former had. The path to hell was paved with good intentions, and his father seemed to determined to tread it without relent.

Akihiko tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, though, as he opened the door to the room he, Misaki, and Yukihiko had been sharing for nearly the last two weeks.

The dim moonlight cast a shadowy glow over Misaki's face. He looked at peace in sleep, his continence relaxing into an expression of contentment. The bags under his eyes were fairly minor (Akihiko knew his own were far worse), the only sound coming from him the gentle rhythm of his breathing.

And then there was the other sound of breathing.

Yukihiko's face while sleeping wasn't much different from his awake one — a fact that bespoke of his innocence and unworldliness. He, too, had the same peaceful expression as Misaki; Akihiko could see the resemblance starting already.

As for resemblances to himself, well…

Misaki had decided Yukihiko had his nose. He'd remarked upon this more than once, and each time had sent what felt like a sluice of ice water down Akihiko's spine. It was just another stark reminder that he was now a father; something that was bizarre, wonderful, and absolutely terrifying.

There were reminders everywhere of his new status. The meimeisho hanging over the baby's temporary bassinet had the familiar "hiko" kanji, and that alone was enough for the overwhelming emotions to start up all over again every time Akihiko glanced at it.

Takahiro had bought the name certificate in two days ago; he'd made it himself, having a fair amount of skill in calligraphy. They'd gotten a footprint and handprint from Yukihiko with a surprisingly minimal amount of fuss, and Akihiko had managed to persuade the floor manager to let them take down the painting above where Yukihiko slept so they could hang it up. There was already a hook installed above Yukihiko's crib for when they took him home.

Akihiko quietly slipped into the room and over to where his son lay sleeping. He reached into the temporary bassinet and stroked a finger down one of his cheeks. The skin was soft, smooth, and warm, the latter-most indicating the vitality present within the sleeping child. His child.

As Akihiko gently stroked his son's cheek, Yukihiko didn't stir, but Akihiko heard the slightest ruffling of sheets coming from Misaki's bed. He looked up to see Misaki wide awake, green eyes staring straight at him, tears glistening on his cheeks.

Akihiko walked over to him. "Misaki…?" He gently started to brush his hand through Misaki's hair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Misaki murmured.

Akihiko continued his ministrations for a few moments before he lifted his hand and moved to the other side of the bed. Misaki didn't even turn over as Akihiko turned back the topsheet and climbed into the hospital bed.

It was barely big enough to fit them both, but Misaki said nothing as Akihiko turned toward him and wrapped his arms around him.

Akihiko rested his face in Misaki's hair, breathing in his scent, still tinged with something citrus despite the sterile hospital smell. After a moment, he felt Misaki's warm hand clasp onto his entwined ones.

"It's terrifying." Misaki's voice was small but clear. "I already love him so much."

Akihiko breathed in his lover's familiar scent. "I know."

They remained silent for the rest of the night.

**Endnotes:**

_**Meimeisho: **_**Literally translates as "name certificate". About a week after a child is born, by Japanese custom they having a naming ceremony, announcing the name to the entire family. The **_**meimeisho**_** is where the name is displayed. Sometimes handprints/footprints are added.**

**I hope I got that right, anyway. I did my research, but I might have gotten something off. **


	24. Chapter 16: Romantica

**A/N: Getting this up, because it's been forever since I've updated. Still around and working on this, just having some outside issues again. And a bit of writer's block. **

**I haven't yet replied to recent reviews. I'll try to do so within the next few days. **

**I have plans to edit chapter two yet again, and there are some grammar errors here and there over the story that I might fix. Also, I fixed chapter five: the second half is now actually there, as opposed to just having the first half split between the sections eight and nine. If you've started this story after my last update, it'll be new to you. (As a reminder: Romantica chapter).**

**Next chapter is Egoist, and the next one after that (which is giving me trouble, but I'll figure it out). I actually have most of the next chapter written, though not yet typed, so I may (if all goes well) have it up in the next few days.**

**Title for this chapter taken from the song with the same name by Everclear.  
**

**Thank you, as always, for your patience with me and this story. Any reviews or other signs of interest, such as favoriting or adding to alerts, are very much appreciated. Thank you to all who done so so far; when I'm down on myself and my writing, it helps a hell of a lot. :)**

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Chapter 16: Father of Mine

Snow was lightly falling in elegant drifts as Akihiko opened the passenger side car door. Yukihiko, who now had wisps of brown hair lining the top of his tiny head, had fallen asleep in Misaki's arms during the car ride home, so Akihiko carefully took his son into his arms so Misaki could undo his seatbelt.

"We only need the one large bag in the back seat for now," he said as Misaki moved to reach into the backseat and grab some bags. "The rest can wait; it's cold outside, I don't think it's the best environment for Yukihiko to be in."

Misaki gave him a strange sort of look. "Okay," he said, pulling the appropriate bag from the various minutia on the backseat, "if you say so."

Yukihiko was still sleeping when they exited the elevator doors, which was good, because they encountered someone Akihiko would rather they'd never see.

"Father," he greeted - in certain terms of the word - the man with as much barely-disguised malice he could muster. He was the only person there, no bovine statue of a brother or sympathetic Tanaka, only his father's confident smirk. "I'm surprised it took you this long."

His father only looked slightly amused. "The ordinance they'd created made it rather difficult," he admitted, his voice a smooth as silk, and for a moment all Akihiko could think of was the declared punishments of violation of the ordinance they signed. _No, they can't - _"Thankfully, that nasty piece of legislation was recently modified — it is now automatically legal for immediate familial relations to know of the condition, even if they hadn't originally been named at the time of signing. At least, so several little birdies in congress told me." He inclined his head slightly. "Lovely little birdies... they responded so well to fine birdfeed..."

He rolled his eyes at his father's metaphor. There was a slight movement in the bundle in his arms; he looked down to see murky blue-grey eyes opened wide. Yukihiko's tiny mouth started to open and close, his lips making a smacking noise.

"Ah! Yukihiko's hungry!" Misaki said, taking the baby from Akihiko's arms. A sudden feeling of emptiness washed over him. His father's smirk had only widened, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Yuki_hiko_?" he said, with an extreme emphasis on the final syllable. "That's a fine name choice: Usami Yukihiko."

"It's _Takahashi_ Yukihiko," he corrected, lining his voice with venom.

He heard what sounded like the start of a fresh round of wails.

"Uh, Usagi-san, we need to get inside, the bottle's empty." Misaki gave him an apologetic look. "There wasn't much left."

He just grunted and opened the door, allowing Misaki and the baby entrance as the cries started to increase.

"You are not welcome," he said to his father, pointedly.

His father simply rolled his eyes. "Can't I properly see the grandchild you so _neglected_ to tell me about? Why, I wouldn't even know of the condition if it hadn't been for Haruhiko's friend —"

_Isaka_, he mentally cursed.

"Usagi-san, you can let him in," he heard Misaki call from inside the apartment. _What?_ "He probably won't leave, otherwise."

_He can rot out here for all I care_, he thought, but also knew that he if he wanted any sort of normalcy to follow, he'd have to concede this one time.

"Fine," he said, and he wanted to smash the ensuing smug grin on his father's face, "but he is not welcome to stay long."

"Now, now, Akihiko, didn't I teach you to be a better host than that?" his father said as he entered, taking off his shoes and gently closing the door behind him.

"You didn't teach me anything," he muttered darkly.

He walked over to where Misaki was. Yukihiko had stopped crying and appeared to be looking at his surroundings with as much curiosity as a two-week old baby could express.

"This is your new home, Yukihiko," Misaki said, smiling.

"It's rather unfortunate it's so small," his father said, eying the penthouse critically. Misaki shot the man a look of disbelief, one of his eyebrows twitching erratically.

"Your perception of size is unfortunate," Akihiko told his father over his shoulder before looking back at Yukihiko, who was staring at Misaki's face.

"You've been amongst the common folk for too long, I see. Forgotten what advantages true riches provide."

Akihiko repressed a shudder. "No, I remember. I remember very well. Well enough to know I'd rather have my son _not _experience such so-called-advantages."

"How good of you to make all and any decisions for him already."

Akihiko whirled around, ready to smash his father's face in. He went for decorum. He didn't need to expose his son to such violence so early. "He's two weeks old. I'm thirty-two. There's a bit of a difference, there — though you aren't one to realize that."

His father just sighed and shook his head, otherwise completely unfazed. "You don't see what I see, Akihiko. You have a son who has been born disadvantaged — "

It took everything he had not to strangle his father then and there. "_Excuse me? _I don't think living in a penthouse in Tokyo is exactly disadvantaged."

"No, not that," his father said with a slender smile. He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Did you not think, Akihiko, of how others may react to his parentage —"

"Why you — "

"You may not care - or at least, pretend not to. But to tell a young child to just ignore everything being said, the way people look at him funny — that's a cruelty to be avoided, I think, rather than something a father should want to inflict on his son."

Akihiko heard Misaki make a small whimper from behind him. He himself was shaking, clenching his fists and surpressing his fight instinct. "_Get the hell out_."

His father smirked as he slipped out of the slippers and began to gather his things. He'd managed to sting, and he looked all too proud of that fact. "Of course. I do think it is the proper time for my departure." He looked pointedly at Akihiko. "I do believe I've made my point."

As the man made his leave, he stopped for a moment before closing the door and poked his head back in. "Ah, I almost forgot. I meant to say — your mother was very attentive and loving for the first few weeks, before the actually reality of having a young baby to attend to got to her. Let's hope history doesn't repeat itself, eh?"

Akihiko stared at the door even after his father slammed it shut, his body trembling as a myriad of images danced over his eyes, blurry memories of dark hallways and an arctic coldness in the shape of a woman.

"Usagi-san…?" Misaki's voice was timid, but it grounded Akihiko enough to realize he'd collapsed into a ball, arms covering a face that was slowly being stained with tears. When was the last time he'd cried in front of an audience? Ah, that's right, nearly six years ago… the same audience, plus one.

"Usagi-san, it's going to be okay," Misaki's voice soothed.

"How can you be so sure?" His voice sounded painfully soft to his own ears. "I don't want to hurt him…"

"I don't want to, either. So let's work together to be the best parents we can give Yukihiko, okay?"

Akihiko meet Misaki's eyes; they were bright with both worry and an hopeful enthusiasm Akihiko wished he had. He gave his beloved a small, watery smile, then looked down at Yukihiko, who was staring indirectly at him; the kid had no idea what was going on. Lucky him.

"Besides," Misaki continued, his voice a bit stronger now, "you treat those you love with such plethora of kindness… isn't that the most important thing?"

Misaki was blushing now, and Akihiko gave him another smile, this one stronger and wider.

"I guess so," he said, then considered things for a moment. "Ah, Misaki, you had a good set of parents, right? And Takahiro was good to you?"

Misaki looked rather taken aback. "Uh, yes…"

"Then you can tell me if I'm messing up, right? Because all my parents taught me is how to do everything wrong…"

Misaki sighed, then knelled down to the floor. "You hold him," he said, and Akihiko, surprised, complied.

Akihiko looked down at his son. His heart still twisted at the thought.

"See, you're doing fine, now," Misaki said, optimistically. Then he gave him a wide grin. "I'm sure we'll both do fine, Usagi-san!"

Akihiko supposed, in the end, so much cynicism probably wasn't healthy. "Okay," he said, and hoped Misaki was right.

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**Endnote:**

**Yukihiko's eye color: I edited the last chapter to bring this up. For (most) babies who eventually develop light colored (blue, green, grey) eyes, their eye color at birth is a blue-grey color (more grey than blue, actually). This is true as well to for some eventually brown-eyed babies: namely most white babies, though sometimes they will be brown at birth. Infants of other races often have brown eyes at birth that stay that color. (If I worded any of that wrong/awkwardly, please tell me).**

**Which means, of course, that I will hopefully be motivated to get to the point where his eyes reach a certain color, because everyone wants to know what eye color he'll have, right? Right. **


	25. Chapter 17, Part 1: Egoist

**Notes: Hey, look, I'm still around! I wanted to put this up before I reply to reviews, but I will try to reply to everyone. Replying to older reviews makes me nervous for some reason, so a general thank you to all you lovely readers. Your support and enthusiasm helps keep me motivated. Also, I've noticed that 's line breaks (that is, the ones between scenes) don't show up on Readability or the reader in Safari on my iPod. I'm not quite sure how I'll deal with that, yet, but if I start adding weird scene breaks… that's why. **

**This chapter changed a lot over the course of the time I've been working on it, at least. I changed some stuff from my what I was originally planning, and added some stuff; hopefully it all worked out for the better. I decided to post the first half now, because there are still some characterization things I have to comb over in the second half. **

**This chapter is Egoist, the next chapter (eighteen, will be twenty-seven in the dropdown menu) is Egoist with Romantica visiting (second scene), and then the chapter after that (nineteen; will be either twenty-eight or twenty-nine on the dropdown menu, most likely the former) will have all couples, including Mistake, in an individual section devoted to each pairing, as will chapter twenty. **

**Title taken this time from Semisonic's "Closing Time". **

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Chapter 17: Every New Beginning is Some Other Beginning's End

The minute hand seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. It would probably be helpful if Hiroki stopped watching it, but he couldn't bring himself to, instead trying to will the minutes to pass by faster to the scheduled appointment time. Just five more minutes, and these nearly forty weeks of waiting, dreading, and suffering things he'd never thought he'd have to go through would be over.

Well, the pregnancy would be over, anyway. Then he had another, what, eighteen years, at least?

…Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps he'd been temporarily devoid of all reason for the past nine or so months.

"You're getting cold feet," Nowaki told him when he voiced those concerns. The man was sitting to his left, a perfect picture of tranquility highlighted by an unoffensive beige backdrop. "It won't be much longer, Hiro-san, and then we'll have a beautiful baby girl to hold. Focus on that, instead."

"I can't wait to see my granddaughter!" his mother opined upon hearing Nowaki, and Hiroki tried not to glower too hard at her. Of course she'd finagled her way into being at the birth, so to speak. That was just what she did. The opposite of the composed Nowaki, his mother was fidgeting despite her age, like she was barely able to clamp down on her anticipation. On her lap was the book she declared herself "too excited" to read, her reading glasses tucked under her hands as she kept a firm grip on the novel. "I don't think I told you, Hiroki, but you'll appreciate this: I already bought Yuzumi her first book."

It took Hiroki a moment to process what his mother had said. Even though they'd finally decided on the name Yuzumi two weeks ago, he still wasn't use to hearing it, or thinking about the unborn baby by that term. It didn't help, either, that he'd held out on choosing a name for so long because he was still gunning for the name Murasaki (Nowaki pointed out that it wouldn't be such a good idea to set their daughter up for a complex from the start). His mother had been rather unimpressed with the name they'd chosen when they first told her, but then Nowaki had pointed out that her name contained a fruit, too. From then, she'd fawned over the perfection of the name until Hiroki had sent her a sharp enough glare to make her quiet down about it.

He thought back to what she'd just said. "Wait, what? Her first book? Do you mean the plush you bought on Nowaki's birthday?"

His mother laughed. "No, of course not. That wasn't an _actual_ book, just a fake one."

"What?" Hiroki said loudly, with, he grudgingly admitted, a slight whine, and his mother nearly jumped in surprise at his tone of voice. "But I was going to do that."

"Well, if you want, I could always return it," his mother said.

"No, no, it's alright," he replied. He hadn't meant to sound like a petulant child, really.

"If it makes you feel better, Hiro-san, baby books have a tendency to contain nouns and pictures and not much else," Nowaki said, rubbing Hiroki's arm; Hiroki held back a scowl. "You can always get Yuzumi her first book that has more substance."

Hiroki considered this for a moment. "True. They have classical literature books for children, don't they?"

"Uh, yes, I think so," Nowaki said slowly. Then he turned to Hiroki's mother, meeting her gaze over Hiroki's shoulder. "So what kind of picture book did you get, Mother?"

"Oh, one on fruits."

"Fruits and vegetables?"

Her face formed into a delicate scowl much like her son's. "No, just fruits. Like peaches and yuzus!"

Hiroki groaned and resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

Nowaki just smiled at her politely. "That's nice, " he said placidly. His gaze fell towards the clock on the wall. "Ah, they should be —"

"Kamijou Hiroki?" The young nurse had a clipboard in his hand and was peering into the waiting room. Hiroki thought the man hadn't need to bother with calling him in, since they were the only ones here (a guarantee that came with being a pregnant man, as no one else was supposed to see).

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled as he got up, Nowaki and his mother both trying to help him. He scowled at them, feeling a sudden flash of relief at the thought that soon enough he wouldn't have to deal with a constantly worried mother and Nowaki.

…Well, over him, anyway.

* * *

The nursery held about twenty-five babies in various states of consciousness. The most recent arrival, Kamijou Yuzumi, occupied the bassinet furthest from the viewing glass Nowaki was currently looking through.

He'd visited Hiroki first, but Hiroki had been so groggy and dazed from surgery and pain meds that Nowaki had decided it would be best to visit him after at least an hour had passed. The elder Kamijou had left not long after the surgery, saying something about having people to call and promising to be back when they started to allow Yuzumi out of the nursery.

So now here he was, starring at his newborn daughter, so awestruck he almost didn't hear his name being called.

"Kusama-san," a familiar voice reverberated down the hall and Nowaki swallowed down a lump in his throat as he turned to the see the Chief of Medicine, Miyake Yutaka.

"Did you call my name, Miyake-Sensei?" Nowaki said, bowing slightly. "I'm sorry, but I'm off the clock right now —"

"I know," the man said as he reached where Nowaki was standing, briefly glancing into the nursery before meeting Nowaki's eyes. "I'd like to discuss something with you regarding… Kamijou Yuzumi."

Nowaki stiffened as a chill slithered down his spine and an unpleasant sensation settled in his gut. He tried to say something — anything — but his mouth did not want to form words. Finally he managed an, "excuse me…?"

The older man patted Nowaki on the shoulder. "Come on, let's walk to my office." Nowaki figured he must have looked something awful, because Miyake-Sensei sighed and said, "It's not as bad as you think. Just come with me, please, Kusama-san."

Nowaki's heartbeat seemed to get faster and faster with every step down the hall to Miyake-Sensei's office. The man didn't normally call people down to his office like this. Nowaki knew him quite well, as Miyake-Sensei had examined the children at Kusama Orphanage gratis ever since Nowaki could remember. Back then, the doctor had been a younger man with kind hazel eyes and bright red hair, and while his hair had gone salt-and-pepper grey and his face had taken on years of wrinkles, the man was just as kind as Nowaki remembered him being. Miyake-Sensei had been delighted to welcome Nowaki as an intern, and while the man certainly didn't play favorites, Nowaki found him to be a more than suitable boss, far more lenient than most other men in his position would be when it came to the male pregnancy cases.

Still, Nowaki knew the hospital he worked at was an outlier in their treatment of the male pregnancy cases, and this had cost them quite a bit of money from donors "in the know", so to speak. From what he'd heard through the grapevine, new donors had slowly started appearing to make up the difference, but it was still affecting the hospital. A number of very good doctors had quit for better paying jobs, and while the hospital's lenient policy towards employees who were affected by male pregnancy had attracted equally good replacements, the transition hadn't exactly been easy.

He thought about this as he walked next to Miyake-Sensei, at a slightly slower pace, partially because he didn't want to overtake his boss on the way to the man's office, but also as a way to delay whatever news he was to be told, as if in some vain hope that if they took long enough to get to there, the problem would just resolve itself on it's on own.

By the time they arrived at Miyake-Sensei's office, Nowaki's hands were covered in sweat and his neck wasn't doing much better. Somewhere in his mind he was thinking that this was the sympathetic system in action, but that didn't do much to calm his jumpy nerves.

"Take a seat, Kusama-san," Miyake-Sensei said, gesturing to the leather chair in front of his desk. Nowaki did his best not to fidget, trying his hardest to appear composed in front of his boss, but despite his best efforts his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Miyake-sensei opened up one of the many manilla file folders on his desk and took out a sheet of paper. "I'd like you to look at this sheet of Kamijou Yuzumi's vitals," he said, and Nowaki's heart nearly stopped beating as he took the paper and glanced over it.

Then he was just confused.

"They're normal," he said, eyes kept to the page, as if something peculiar would jump out at him.

Miyake-Sensei nodded. "Yes, they are, as has been with all the children from the male pregnancy cases we've delivered so far. No abnormalities whatsoever." At this, he paused. "However, in the case of Kamijou Yuzumi, there is one thing — not unheard of, but not common." Nowaki looked up from the paper. Miyake-Sensei was watching Nowaki from behind his desk, hands folded in front of him. His face remained stoic. "She has total heterochromia."

Nowaki furrowed his brow, still baffled as to why he'd been called into his boss's office. "That's all…?" Having two differently colored eyes were rare, but unless there were other symptoms, it wasn't anything to be worried about.

Miyake-Sensei still remained oddly solemn. "Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, but since she is the result of a male pregnancy…"

Nowaki shifted. "I don't understand."

The older man sighed. "You wouldn't," he mumbled, then continued more clearly, "my colleagues — heads of other hospitals, certain politicians, and so forth — have been amazed that I have been so willing to let pregnant males deliver in my hospital. They've been even more amazed that these newborns don't have abnormalities — like, say, horns, tentacles, or two heads."

Nowaki's eyes widened incredulously. "Seriously…?"

Miyake-Sensei nodded. "Prejudices often misguide even the most intelligent of people." He sighed and shifted some papers in front of him, looking at them as if they held all the answers before putting down them down and returning his gaze to Nowaki. "Now getting back to the task at hand…"

"Yuzumi."

"Right. So, before now, as I've said, all children have been born without any known abnormalities, until Kamijou Yuzumi's heterochromia."

Nowaki tried not to stare. At least his hands had stopped shaking. "But that's certainly not unheard of. I mean, it's rare, but it definitely has been seen many times before."

"I know," Miyake-Sensei said, "but it's still an abnormality — the first reported one in a male pregnancy case. So… we'd like to run a few blood tests on her."

Nowaki swallowed, his hands starting to shake again. He remembered the four square breathing exercises they taught children with high anxiety, and wondered if it would be appropriate to noticeably slowdown his breathing in front of his boss. "Hiro — my partner had a CVS test done a while ago. Not that there's anything in his family to really test for — he just wanted to be extra-certain."

"They usually don't test for the odd ones, though, like Waardenburg syndrome."

Nowaki considered this for a moment. The truth was, as anxious as this whole ordeal was making him, he'd very much like to know the cause of Yuzumi's heterochromia, partially, he'd admit, because of the doctor in him, but mostly because he'd rather know now than spend her first few years nervously waiting for any sign that something was really wrong. "I'm fine with the blood tests, but I'll have to check with my partner first."

"Very well." Miyake-Sensei stood up and shook his hand. "Kusama-san, I really do appreciate your willingness to deal with all of this —" the elder doctor paused for a moment, gazing upward and frowning before finishing with, "inanity."

Nowaki nodded but said nothing until he nearly exited the room. Pausing before he opened the door, he turned to his boss and asked, "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what two colors are her eyes?"

Miyake-Sensei smiled at him, and Nowaki felt slightly relieved. The man wouldn't be asking about the tests if he didn't have to, he realized. "The left is brown, the right is the familiar newborn grey-blue."

Nowaki bowed. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he said, before opening the door and making his way back to Hiroki's room to wait for him to become more coherent.

* * *

**Yuzumi: I actually had a different named planned, then realized it doesn't seem to be used as a first name anywhere except (rarely) in the U.S., and then I found out the main kanji in it is considered old-fashioned name-wise. Anyway. A yuzu is a tart citrus fruit that looks kind of like a small orange and which, among other things, is used in a winter bath in Japan which is supposed to, according to Wikipedia," guard against colds, warm the body, and relax the mind." The fruit is also known for growing in especially cold climates, and is not eaten whole but used more as a garnish or spice. **

**As for the "mi" part... well, the most common kanji is for "beautiful". I actually was able to find out how the whole Seimei Handen thing works (well, sort of - I found out how the arithmetic is done and which numbers are bad and which is good, via the always helpful use of Google), though, and the stroke count isn't right for that. So... as it is, I'm leaving that open for now.**

**Murasaki: Writer of _The Tale of the Genji_. As far as I can tell, giving a kid the name Murasaki would be equivalent to naming a kid Shakespheare in Western culture. **

**Heterochromia: A reviewer quite a while ago requested/asked if the Romantica kid could have one eye green and one eye purple. I said I would do that with the Egoist kid instead, since at the time the only way I knew of to get heterochromia from birth is something involved with the x chromosome that made me think the only way to get heterochromia was to have two x chromosomes. Anyway, the point is I'm not too sure what the point is, actually. Possibly that I babble to much.**


	26. Chapter 17, Part 2: Egoist

**A/N: My apologies, as I really should be replying to reviews and whatnot, but my anxiety is acting up, so it's a bit too difficult right now.**

**Anyway, I wanted to post this with some chapters to follow, but I'm getting a bit stuck and the anxiety is acting up, so I figured I should post this part now before I never decide it's done. This fic still isn't up on YourFanfiction yet, simply because I'm doing some doublechecking of the earlier chapters before I post (as well as trying to figure out if I should post each couple as a its own fic and link them via series, or keep it all in one like here), but I should have it up, if not by the end of today, then definitely by the end of the weekend. Though you know how I am with deadlines...**

**So, yes. More should be up here, soon, too. Next chapter will be more Egoist, followed by a chapter where every couple has a small part devoted to them, including Mistake. **

**Oh! If you remember, back in chapter four, Hiroki's parents told Nowaki to just call them "Dad" and "Mom" respectively, so that's how he thinks of them here.**

* * *

Hiroki was aware, in some part of his brain, that his body did not end somewhere around his torso. However, the rest of his brain was telling him he no longer had a lower half, and while he knew he should be disturbed by this thought, for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care.

"How are you feeling?" A nurse asked him as she looked over the various machines and lines that were connected to his body.

"Drugged," he'd told her, honestly, and got a glare in response. Hiroki thought he should teach her how to give a better one; hers was rather ineffective.

"Ah, Minikawa-san, Hiro-san's usually like that." Hiroki's gaze flitted to the door to see an apologetic Nowaki standing in the doorway, the top of his head far too close to the top of the frame for Hiroki's comfort. "I'll take it from here, if you don't mind."

The nurse just sighed and handed Nowaki a clipboard. "I'll be back in a hour," she said as he moved to let her through the doorway.

"Why was she here, anyway?" Hiroki asked as Nowaki moved a chair to his side, eying the machines.

"She has to observe your vital signs and make sure nothing goes wrong, Hiro-san," he said softly.

"Oh," Hiroki said, feeling an unpleasant squirming sensation that he knew had nothing to do with the surgery.

"Don't worry, Hiro-san. You're post-op and no one is at their best post-op. Besides, they had to deal with Usami-sensei less than a month ago, so they've been through far worse."

"Akihiko?" Hiroki asked, raising a brow. "What did he do?" He had a feeling it was something along the lines of acting like he normally did.

"Ah, well, the nurses were able to do the bare minimum," Nowaki said by way of reply. "Let's just say it's a good thing Takahashi-san coped well with the surgery." He frowned for a moment, then switched to a more relevant topic. "How are your legs feeling, Hiro-San?"

"They aren't," he replied. "Am I supposed to feel them by now?"

Nowaki just smiled softly and shook his head. "Not necessarily. You should be feeling them soon, though, and when you do you'll be moved to the male maternity section, so..."

"I'm going to have to move again? Ugh."

"They'll take you on a gurney, Hiro-san. Besides, the ward isn't that far from here."

Hiroki took his word for it. He had no idea where the male maternity ward was; from what he understood, it was in a hallway that was difficult to find — even the senior doctors got lost. The ward itself was small, less than a dozen rooms, though it was to be expanded — Nowaki's hospital was one of the few that were bothering to set up a proper wing for males recovering from c-sections. Most just hid the patients among various med/surg floors. Actually, most hospitals didn't do the surgery at all.

"Anyway, your vitals are fine." There was a pause, followed by a subtle shift in the atmosphere. "Hiro-san, about Yuzu-chan…"

"Yuzu-chan?"

Nowaki looked a bit startled. "Uh, Yuzumi, Hiro-san."

Hiroki snorted. "You nicknamed her already?" Somehow, he should have expected that.

Nowaki ignored that. "My superior, Miyake-sensei, he … well, he'd like to do a few tests." Hiroki felt his eyes widen, and Nowaki quickly continued with, "It's not there's anything wrong with her, per se. She just has an uncommon feature, and because of…" His voice fell to a near whisper, shoulders slumping as if in defeat, "us…"

Hiroki tried to understand what Nowaki was saying. There was something between the lines, something obvious, but his mind was still muddled from the pain meds. "What do you mean?"

Nowaki turned his head away from Hiroki, his gaze unfocused as he observed the various tubes and machines. He spoke so softly Hiroki almost had to strain himself to hear him. "Well, since we're her parents… which wasn't possible until recently… " he trailed off.

Something slid into place in Hiroki's mind. "Ah, I see. Because we're both men, and this all so shiny and new, they want to use this peculiarity has as an excuse to poke at her like she's some sort of half-alien creature?" He managed to sound only mildly pissed off as he said this, but he had a feeling that was due to the fact he was drugged up.

Nowaki flinched, but still kept his gaze away from Hiroki. "They only really want a blood draw, I think. They may want blood samples from us, too… they're still confused as to how mitochrondial DNA is being inherited…"

"Whatever." Hiroki really couldn't bring himself to really get worked up over this, the side effects from whatever they had him on giving him a feeling of detachment. "Do you think we should go through with it?"

Nowaki finally made eye contact again. "Well, to be honest, I'm also a bit concerned about some medical conditions, like Waardenburg Syndome, since Yuzu-chan has total heterochromia."

There was a moment of immense silence. "I understand very little of what you said."

"Oh! Well, be Yuzu-chan has one eye that's brown and one that's currently blue, I am a bit worried she might have a rare genetic syndrome characterized by odd pigmentation and facial features, along with, in some cases, hearing loss."

Hiroki blinked. To some extent, he was aware there was some feeling of fear in him, but it felt far away, like it was happening in some emotional fog. The main thing he was feeling was a kind of exhaustive apathy, a numbness that wasn't entirely unpleasant. His tone was even as he asked, "wouldn't the CVS test have covered that?"

"Possibly, but only if the Hayashi-Sensei went out of her way to test for rare disorders."

Hiroki frowned. "I think she only tested for the really dangerous ones. Anyway, would the blood test they want to do tell us if she has this… thing?"

"Yes, Hiro-san," Nowaki replied. "They'd check for anything that could cause full heterochromia, most likely."

"Well, this stuff is your domain, not mine. Do whatever you think is best."

Nowaki nodded. "Okay," he said.

Hiroki just closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

* * *

Nearly a week had passed since Kamijou Yuzumi had joined the world of the living, and her parents were — finally — allowed to spend time with her. Or rather, Nowaki spent much of his time cooing over her and Hiroki kept his eyes focusing on either the page of some book or the backs of his eyelids. As of right now, Hiroki was reading a shiny new novel, clad in reading glasses and propped up on the bed.

Nowaki thought his beloved Hiro-san looked adorable in his reading glasses, but then again, as far as Nowaki was concerned, Hiroki was incapable of looking anything other than cute. Even when he was scowling. Or throwing a book at him.

Yuzumi had just fallen asleep, which wasn't good, because Mom was coming over in an hour, and every time she saw her granddaughter, she made a high-pitched noise that Nowaki was pretty sure could wake a patient in a level 14 coma. In any case, it always woke Yuzumi, and in such a way that she would promptly burst into tears. It was strange; though Nowaki had been around babies and young children most of his life, his daughter somehow seemed to have a louder cry than any other child he'd ever met. He hoped it was a false perception.

In any case, Dad had theorized that his wife's excitement at seeing Yuzumi would disappear once the woman had gotten accustomed to seeing his granddaughter, which Nowaki hoped was true, because right now he and Hiroki had no idea just how long they'd have to say at the elder Kamijous' house — they were (uncomfortably enough) playing it by ear.

Nowaki himself was still getting used to looking into Yuzumi's bicolored eyes — they threw him off. He wondered what color her currently blue-grey eye would turn out to be — for all he knew, it could turn into brown, making her heterochromia unnoticeable. Mom was banking on it being blue, since Hiroki's eyes had been brown at birth.

The sound of a door swinging open made its ways to Nowaki ears, followed by, "So, how is my favorite invalid?"

Nowaki turned his head away from his daughter to see Tsumori-senpai entering the room. He could feel the intensity Hiroki's glare was giving off without even looking.

"I'm not your patient, I'm not an invalid, and why the hell are you even here in the first place?"

Tsumori clucked his tongue. "You should watch your language, there's an innocent child in here." He smirked. "In some ways, it's rather unfortunate; seduction becomes so much more difficult when there's a child involved."

Deciding he'd rather not have Hiroki blow several gaskets, Nowaki spoke before his lover could. "Tsumori-senpai, is there a medically relevant reason for your visit, or are you just here to pester Hiro-san?"

Tsumori had the decency to at least try to look insulted. "I'm always one hundred percent serious, Nowaki-kun — I have no idea what you're talking about." Nowaki nearly snorted. "And at this time, I do have something medically related that will be of interest to you. If you'd come out into the hall...?"

Hiroki seemed to be about to say something, so Tsumori added a, "Don't worry, Hiro-chan, it will only take a moment — not nearly enough time to do something scandalous."

"I'll be right back, Hiro-san," Nowaki said as he walked out the door. Hiroki just mumbled something that sound suspiciously like, "Hiro-chan...?"

Out in the hallway, Nowaki turned to face his senior. "What's this about?"

"Two things. The first is good news: Kamijou Yuzumi tested negative for any and all genetic disorders that can cause heterochromia."

Nowaki let out a sigh of relief; he'd had his doubts that anything truly worrisome was the cause of his daughter's heterochromia, but it was incredibly reassuring to have solid proof of that fact. "That's good to hear. What was the second thing?"

Tsumori's countenance suddenly became very solemn. "There's been an outbreak of walking pneumonia at the nursery — not a particularly strong strain, and it appears quite a few babies inherited immunity to it, but it's enough of a concern for us to recommend keeping your daughter with you until you leave the hospital."

Nowaki's shoulders slumped; a disease outbreak among newborns was never good news. "Will do that. I'll tell Hiro-san the signs to look out for."

"I'm sure you two can manage this yourselves. Anyway, my break's about to end, so..."

"You came here on break?"

"How could I miss my dearest friends' hospital stay? Besides, I'm sure Kamijou is fuming over what's going on out here."

Nowaki held back the urge to roll his eyes. "See you around, Senpai."

Back in the room, Hiroki was indeed slightly fuming, like a pot trying not to boil over. It was a futile effort. "What was that about?"

"The cause of Yuzu-chan's heterochromia is completely benign. Other than that, there's been a pneumonia outbreak in the nursery so Yuzumi will stay with us until check-out. We'll need to watch her for signs of pneumonia in the meantime."

"Oh, okay," Hiroki said. Then he went back to reading his novel.

Something was troubling Nowaki, a thought that had been wriggling at the back of his mind for some time now, despite his own attempts to suppress it."Hiro-san, have you looked at Yuzu-chan since we've been able to see her?"

Hiroki didn't even bother to look up from the book he was reading. There was a light blush on his checks, however. "Sure I have."

_Oh, really? _Nowaki silently scolded himself, ashamed, but the bitterness had given way to mental bile despite his best efforts. He took a moment to compose himself before asking Hiroki, a little guiltily, "Okay, then tell me, what color is her hair?"

Hiroki continued to keep his eyes glued to the page, though he did bite his underlip. "That's a trick question. She doesn't have any hair."

Nowaki's shoulders slumped. "No, Hiro-san, she does, and it's very visible, since it's the same dark blue-black color of my own hair."

Hiroki didn't say anything, just stared harder at the book he was reading. He hadn't turned the page since Nowaki had re-entered the room.

"Hiro-san, is anything wrong…"

"No!" he snapped suddenly, and Yuzumi promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, shut up," Hiroki mumbled as Nowaki went to soothe their daughter, and Nowaki looked at him askance.

"Hiro-san!" Hiroki's face had already taken on a guilty look. Nowaki looked back to his daughter and held her close, rocking her until she had calmed down and could be returned to her bassinet. She slipped into sleep, and Nowaki nearly sighed with relief.

"I'm sorry," Hiroki said and Nowaki turned to look at him. He was blinking rapidly and shaking slightly. "I didn't mean — I just —"

"Hiro-san?" Nowaki slowly approached the bedside. "You're crying!"

Hiroki touched the tears on his face, looked at his finger and mumbled, "what the hell…?"

"Hiro-san," Nowaki said, his voice balsamic as he reached out to comfort his lover. Hiroki batted his hand away.

"I'm okay — I just — need to get out of this place. When we get out of here, I'll be back to normal. This place is… giving me cabin fever, or something — nothing's quite right. Everything's off."

Something clicked in Nowaki's brain. Now that he thought about it, Hiroki had been acting grumpier than he normally did since Yuzumi was born, and he had seemed a bit more mopey than usual. "The baby blues."

Hiroki looked at him, tear streaks evident on his face. "Huh?"

"Hiro-san, after delivery some women — er, people — don't feel so great, and are rather the opposite of euphoric. It's normal."

"Is that all this is…?" Hiroki seemed to be thinking out loud to himself. He frowned and went back to looking guilty, his shoulders slumping. "But — I'm —"

"Hiro-san?"

Hiroki took a deep breath as his eyes darted back and forth. He wasn't making eye contact with Nowaki. "I don't think I love Yuzumi," he mumbled, his face flush and hands clenched tightly.

"What?"

"I know she's our daughter, and I carried her for so many months, and I'm supposed to — but I really don't think I love her, or even really like her. All I feel towards her is apathy tinged with mild annoyance." Hitoki focused on his hands and fiddled with the sheets.

"Hiro-san," Nowaki said, and then paused for a moment, trying to pick his words carefully. "It's okay."

Hiroki looked up at him sharply. "Huh?"

"Plenty of new parents don't love their babies right away. Heck, most parents don't truly fall in love with their kids until their first social smile, and that can take up to two months to appear."

Hiroki perked up, looking hopeful for a moment before hiding it. "Really? But when my mother mentioned having me, she said she felt —"

"No one's the same, Hiro-san. Her feelings were valid and so are yours. You can't help what you feel."

Hiroki considered this for a moment. "But what if I always feel this way?"

Nowaki frowned. "Let's not worry about that just yet. There's ways to deal with it if it doesn't go away. But right now —"

Hiroki nodded. "Okay." He wiped the back of his hand against his face and smiled to himself. "Just — help me clean my face before my mother arrives."

Nowaki smiled at him and ran a hand through his lover's light brown hair with affection. "Whatever you want, Hiro-san."

He had a feeling everything was going to be alright.


	27. Chapter 18: Egoist with Romantica cameo

**So… even though I'm not 100% happy with it, I'm posting this chapter now, because otherwise I never will. The only thing that could possibly change in the future anyway is additional details for grounding of the scene and transitions; nothing plotwise, so to speak.**

**This chapter is Egoist with a Romantica cameo in the second scene. The next chapter will be all couples.**

**And I'm doing I minor overhaul of this fic, which means edits in the form of additional details (mostly visual) and, rarely, additional emotional reactions to keep characters IC. Because of this, this fic is still not posted on YFF yet; it will be once the minor overhaul is done. **

**Chapter title comes from a song of the same title by Chevelle.**

**As always, all reviews welcome. I do plan to respond when I'm not feeling so off-kilter.**

* * *

Chapter 18: Family System

It was the day of Yuzumi's naming ceremony, and Nowaki was stumped to think of a moment in his life before when he'd been surrounded by so many older women.

"You're so smart, Nowaki-kun! So much better than my son-in-law."

Nowaki deflected the comment. "Ah, I'm sure that isn't true, Kosaka-san. I only know about heterochromia because it's in my field." He'd managed to explain, to the best of his knowledge, just why Yuzumi's eyes were two different colors. It was the first thing Mom's friends had commented on the moment they'd seen Yuzumi. He supposed that was what happened when one had a noticeable difference: it's one of those things strangers can't help but comment on. He hoped his daughter wouldn't develop a complex over it.

The elderly ladies ignored him. "Considering both of her parents, I'm sure she'll be highly intelligent."

One of the slightly less wrinkly women turned towards Nowaki. "What preschool are you thinking of sending her to? Sumasue, or perhaps Katabi?"

It was a good thing Nowaki was used to dealing with irate parents and sick children, since if he wasn't, he might not have been able to stop the shock from appearing on his face. He knew both of those schools - they had a reputation for being a haven for children with very rich parents who were gunning for their kid to enter an elite school straight off the bat. It also was known for preparing children to go to private elementary schools - something about as common in Japan as a Ferrari.

"Hiroki went to Osamu, but that's been closed for a while now," Mom chimed in. "I wouldn't worry about it, though, Nowaki-kun - you and Hiroki-chan have plenty of time before you have to figure those things out."

The flock of women all nodded and then started to gossip about people Nowaki had never heard of. He took this as his cue to leave; Yuzumi had fallen asleep in his arms, which were starting to feel frozen in a cradling position.

Apparently, Nowaki escaping the gaggle of elderly women was the cue Hiroki had been waiting for to put down his book and walk lock-step with Nowaki.

"Oh, she's asleep," Hiroki murmured, sounding strangely relieved. Nowaki made no comment as he placed Yuzumi in her bassinet. "Did the dowager brigade give you too much trouble?"

Nowaki looked up. "Huh?" Hiroki jerked his heads towards his mother's friends, who were currently all laughing in sync over something one of them had said. "Oh, no, they were fine. Though they are rather… anticipatory. One of them asked me what preschool we're planning to send Yuzumi to."

Hiroki rolled his eyes. "Yeah, as though we are thinking that far ahead." He paused for a moment. "I went to Osamu, I think, that's a perfectly fine school."

Nowaki stared at him for a moment. "They closed down."

"What? When?" Hiroki paused, then slowly asked, "What did my mom's friends recommend, anyway?"

"They mentioned Sumasue or Katabi."

Hiroki snorted, and Nowaki felt slightly vindicated. "Not Katabi, everyone I knew who went there was a spoiled, stuck-up brat. Sumasue's supposed to be decent."

Nowaki resisted the urge to rip his hair out. "Decent? Hiro-san, I've had patients who went there whose parents are CEOs!"

Hiroki put up his hands in a peace gesture. "Okay, okay, more than decent." He paused for a moment. "Are you pulling for Sumasue, or something?"

"Hiro-san!" He tried to keep his outrage down, but his voice was loud enough to cause Mom and her friends to look over at them curiously. He waited a moment for the older women to go back to chatting with each other, Mom giving him a nod after glancing over at Yuzumi, before making his way to one of the many extra rooms in the house, Hiroki following closely behind.

"Well," Hiroki said after they'd entered the room and several moments of silence had followed, "what is it?"

"It's just…" Nowaki looked around the room. The one he'd entered was devoted to a myriad of books, neatly lining the walls. In one corner was a small bookshelf consisting of his medical texts, well-worn and used, out-of-place in the shelves of books that had been lovingly treated and bought for uses other than studying and notating. He swallowed. "When I was growing up, there was never much money around. I never went to sleep hungry or anything like that, but there was only so many donors and so forth, and with so many children around, I never owned anything that wasn't already well-used."

Hiroki nodded. "I figured that. You stopped going to school at 14, right? To support the orphanage?"

"Yeah. My foster parents told me they'd gladly pay from my schooling, but I knew they barely had enough to do so, and I never got a full scholarship anywhere. I figured if I started contributing there and then, it would be possible for some of the other children who remained in the orphanage through their teen years to continue their schooling beyond the mandatory years, if they so chose."

Hiroki considered this for a moment. "Okay. But I don't see what this has to do with your outburst just now — "

Nowaki ran a hand through his hair. "When you were growing up, did you ever get anything second-hand?"

Hiroki looked at him sideways. "Huh? No, of course not, but that's normal —"

"It was to _you_. But not to _me_." Nowaki swallowed back a lump in his throat.

Hiroki still looked confused. "You get new things now —"

"That's not the point, Hiro-san." He took a deep breath. "You never had to think about buying things used out of necessity, or worry about what would happen if you lost your job and had no means of supporting yourself, because you always had your parents as a safety net. I mean, you're not quite as… clueless about… these things as, say, Usami-sensei —"

Hiroki snorted. "No one's as clueless as Akihiko."

"It's just… I'm not used to _this_. You are."

Hiroki considered this for a moment. "So you would want to send Yuzumi to a public school, then?"

Nowaki shrugged. "Honestly? Whatever works best for her, and whatever we can afford — if that's private or public, I don't really care, as long as she gets the best education possible."

"I agree."

"I knew you would." Nowaki paused. "Anyway, it's more like… I'm looking at the next — however long we need to spend in your parents house — and all I can see is feeling very out of place. And I'm just… I'm not used it." He sighed.

"Okay." Hiroki frowned. "Well, it makes you feel any better, the first time I moved out of my parents place, I kept trying to slide open the apartment door for the first month or so. The neighbors kept giving me strange looks."

Nowaki smiled. Trust his Hiroki to know just the thing to say to make him feel better. "Really?"

"Yeah, and it took me two months before I properly learned to cook rice. I managed to go through about a dozen rice cookers in that time — well, that was partially Akihiko's fault, but, still —"

"I couldn't sleep for the first week I was on my own because the apartment was too quiet." Hiroki just shot him an odd look. "What? I grew up in a place filled with rambunctious children, I wasn't _used_ to the quiet."

"I couldn't sleep for the first week on my own _because_ of the noise. My next door neighbor had a night schedule, or something, which meant I'd say up listening to bad late night t.v."

Nowaki stopped short. "…Huh. You didn't live a few blocks from Kikimura Park, did you?"

"No," Hiroki said, shaking his head.

"Good. That would have been weird."

Hiroki shifted on his feet. "Yeah."

There was a very long awkward pause.

"How did you know what preschool everybody went to, anyway?"

Hiroki coughed. "Oh, I didn't. I just knew about Katabi. For some reason, everyone who went there would mention it on in to high school. Katabi kids had a reputation as... being a bit strange."

"Did Usami-sensei go there?"

"Akihiko? No, he was raised in England; his older brother went there, though." He paused for a moment. "Uh, by the way, Akihiko is coming by later…"

Nowaki ignored the twisting in his gut. Usami-sensei had a kid now, and a partner, and Hiroki and he had a daughter and — really, would he ever stop feeling unreasonably jealous over this?

Probably not. "Why are you mentioning this only now?"

Hiroki flushed. "Because I didn't think of it until now! My mother was the one who invited him, anyway."

Nowaki felt a rush of relief wash over him. "Oh, okay then." He paused, wondering how much they have to deal with people like Usami, anyway. "Er, Hiro-san? How close are your parents with Usami-sensei's family?"

Hiroki eyed him strangely. "Akihiko's parents, you mean? She doesn't talk to them. No loss there, really. I swear, Akihiko became a much less miserable person when he left the Usami mansion and found an apartment near Teito."

Nowaki tried not to frown. He didn't like being reminded of just how much Usami and Hiroki's paths had collided before Nowaki had come into his lover's life. Still, he went with, "he went to Teito as well? Did you both study literature."

Hiroki nodded. "I never told you? He was studied law. Graduated at the top of his class then never looked at anything remotely related to law again unless he absolutely had to."

Nowaki couldn't help but feel a bit better at knowing the two were in different programs when Hiroki was an undergrad. "Where you at the top of your class, Hiro-san?"

"I was only top of my class in literature, unfortunately. Akihiko always beat me academically." Hiroki's eyes took on a strange gleam. "Of course, Yuzumi will be at the top of her class at Teito, I'm sure. Even if Akihiko's brat goes there."

Nowaki was taken aback at Hiroki's determination to continue their rivalry with their children. "Er, Hiro-san, I think it's a bit too early —"

Hiroki just rolled his eyes. "Listen, with Takahashi's genes, there's no way in hell his kid could be any smarter than the one the two of us produce."

Despite the utter… _strangeness _of Hiroki's behavior, Nowaki still felt his heart swell a bit at Hiroki's words. "Really, Hiro-san?"

Hiroki snorted. "Of course! You're even a doctor, Nowaki, and I've seen Takahashi's academic work. Trust me, Yuzumi will be smarter than Akihiko's son, hands down."

Nowaki felt foolishly pleased by Hiroki's words. Still, those kind of thoughts wouldn't help Yuzumi. "Still, Hiro-san, we shouldn't —"

Hiroki waved his hand. "I know, I know. No pressure on Yuzumi. In any case, she'll surely go to Teito, even if she's not the top of her class."

"Er, Hiro-san, didn't you say before it's too early to be thinking about Yuzumi's education?"

Hiroki just gave him a strange look. "Yeah, but that doesn't involve the university she's go to. That's a give in. Everyone in my family went to Teito."

Nowaki wanted to say something about the class gap between them again, but, honestly, he knew people of all levels of wealth that had ended up in Teito, so he kept quiet about that. Still, something was bothering him. Hiroki put quite a bit of stock in academia, which made sense, given his profession, but it made Nowaki wonder,

"Did you think it was foolish of me to quit my education so early?"

Hiroki flushed. "What? No! In fact, I… " He looked away. "I thought, 'wow, I could never do that.' And besides, you went back to school eventually, anyway."

Nowaki felt a warmth develop in his chest. Hiroki was so adorable. "Hiro-san…" he said, moving towards his lover and bringing him close, holding him in a bear hug.

"Hey, wait a minute! We have to wait at least six weeks post surgery, remember?"

Nowaki paused, unsure what Hiroki was referencing. Then it hit him. "Hiro-san, I wasn't even thinking of that…" As Hiroki's face only went redder, Nowaki couldn't help but gently grasp Hiroki's chin and bring it towards him. Hiroki looked absolutely bewildered before Nowaki kissed him soundly on the mouth.

Hiroki broke away. "Hey! I said —"

"I know, Hiro-san, but I can hold back enough," Nowaki said. "I really can't wait that long to not even be able to hold you…"

Blissfully, Hiroki didn't say anything as Nowaki began kissing him again, instead moaning and responding in turn. They fell to the floor, and, both gasping, dared to explore what they could without going overboard.

At least, they did until a familiar voice sounded. "Ahem."

The two lovers jumped apart and scrambled away from each other. "Mom!" Hiroki squawked.

"You really should lock the door, Hiroki," she chided, as the color of Hiroki's face mimicked that of an an eggplant.

"We weren't — !"

"I just wanted to tell you, Nanako is coming around; she said she could make it, since she was able to book a later ticket on the train to Kyoto." She turned to Nowaki. "Nanako is my niece."

"I know," Nowaki said; even though Hiroki had only told him about his extended family once, he'd committed everything he said to memory. It tended to happen when it came to things involving Hiroki. "Hiro-san told me. Don't you also have another niece — ?"

Nowaki immediately regretted what he said as Mom's face went stony. "She's not coming. And neither is my sister. I didn't want them to come around, anyway."

As Mother turned to exit the room, her shoulders hunched, Hiroki leaned over to Nowaki and whispered, "my Aunt Kimiko and my mother had a falling out recently over… everything that's been happening recently. Nanako agreed with my mother, Makoto agreed with her mother, and apparently neither my mother or Kimiko has talked to my aunt or Makoto since. Sorry, I should have said something earlier…"

Nowaki didn't say anything, just gave Hiroki a one-armed hug and watched as his face went red.

* * *

Akihiko, son and boytoy in tow, did manage to arrive eventually. Akihiko had bags under his bloodshot eyes and was slightly swaying, but he was still there, more or less conscious.

"I'm so glad you were able to come!" Hiroki's mother said as she greeted them, helping them with the huge bags of baby stuff they'd bought over. For a moment, Hiroki wondered why the hell they'd bothered, considering everything already here, but then he had another horrifying thought: that would be Nowaki and him any time they visited someone for the next… few years. Damn. Maybe he should just be housebound for a bit longer.

"I wouldn't want to disappoint you, Kamijou-san," Akihiko said smoothly as she helped him with his coat; Hiroki rolled his eyes in response. "Besides, how could I possibly miss something so important in the life of my dear friend?"

Nowaki, sitting at Hiroki's side, suddenly settled his face into a glare. Hiroki had to resist the urge to smack himself on the head.

Instead, when Akihiko walked over to were they were sitting, Misaki still busy talking to the elder Kamijou-san, Hiroki asked, "so, did the short one make you come?"

"Of course," Akihiko said as he plopped into the couch seat next to Hiroki. He looked about ready to nod off. "No offense, Hiroki, but I really can't bring myself to give a damn about anyone else's brat."

"I expected as much," Hiroki muttered while Nowaki stiffened beside him.

"How can you hate children?" Nowaki muttered. The concept was probably about as foreign to him as not liking books was to Hiroki.

"I don't hate them," Akihiko said, "just intensely dislike them. Besides, Hiroki, aren't you the same?"

"Not really," he admitted, eyes darting to Yuzumi for a second — she was still asleep, thankfully. "I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Hiroki heard Nowaki making a choking noise beside him, but Akihiko took the insult in stride. "True. Then again, I can't stand infants, sans Yukihiko, and I managed to be friends with you."

"So, Usami-sensei, how is your son doing?" Nowaki said, making the brilliant decision to interrupt the potential exchange of insults. Yuzumi, Hiroki reflected, probably didn't need to be exposed to that so soon. "You don't look like you're getting much sleep."

Talk about an understatement. The bags that had formed underneath Akihiko's eyes looked almost bruises, a purple more noticeable than that of his eyes. They looked remarkably similar to the ones that developed when they spent nights cramming for finals at Teito, though not quite as bad as some of the ones he'd seen post-deadline. In any case, Akihiko looked remarkably well-groomed for someone who was running on so few hours of sleep, an accomplishment Hiroki was sure he could at least partly attribute to Takahashi.

Akihiko sighed. "Yes, well, that's not all Yukihiko's fault — I've been working on some fiction for the past few weeks."

"Aren't you supposed to be on hiatus?" Hiroki said. He paused. "Is this one of those writer things?"

"Yes," Akihiko said, his head falling forward, as if it was too heavy for his neck, "unfortunately."

"I don't get it," Nowaki said, but before Hiroki could explain to him that it didn't make any sense to him either, Takahashi, carrying a wide awake but very calm Yukihiko, walked over to where they were.

"Hey," Akihiko said, suddenly incredibly alert, "do you want me to hold him for a bit?"

"I'm fine," Takahashi said, "but if you want to — "

Akihiko nodded, and Hiroki watched as Takahashi transferred the infant to Akihiko's hold.

Akihiko got _that look_ on his face — the "I am completely enamored with this small child who only sleeps, eats, poops, and wails, and therefore should be making me miserable" look that Hiroki wondered if was a variant of Stockholm Syndrome. He'd seen that look on Nowaki's face the first time he'd seen him with Yuzumi, on every T.V. portrayal of happy new parents, and now on both Akihiko and Takahashi's faces as they looked at their son.

His own face, though, had yet to have that look. For a moment, he felt his stomach flip. The "baby blues", as Nowaki had called them despite Hiroki's objections on the basis that the name was too ridiculously cutesy, had ended before he even left the hospital. Still, he didn't quite feel the emotions he thought he was supposed to when it came to Yuzumi. When he thought about her as his daughter, he felt a stirring of fuzzy emotions, but not the overwhelming adoration that he'd seen from others. In terms of her as a person, he felt only a vague sense of curiosity, but beyond that, nothing. He bit his underlip. Nowaki had told him it took time for some parents to fall in love with their children, there was nothing to worry about, but what if —

"So, how many guests were here earlier?" Takahashi asked, interrupting his thoughts. Akihiko still had that goopy look on his face. "Kamijou-san said some of her friends left earlier, and her niece had to catch a train back to Kyoto."

Hiroki was about to protest that he hadn't said that, then realized Takahashi was referring to his mother.

"Not that many more," Nowaki admitted. "It's okay, though; small groups are easier to handle, anyway."

"Too many people spoil a party," Hiroki mumbled.

"Ah, I didn't mean to imply it's a bad thing that there are so few guests! Akihiko and I didn't even have a proper oshichiya meimeishiki party for Yukihiko, anyway, and —"

"Misaki, you need to think before you speak," Akihiko said. The boy blushed and murmured something that sounded slightly apologetic.

Hiroki noticed Takahashi's face had bags under the eyes, though not quite as bad as Akihiko's. It was rather foreboding. Then again, he did have his mother… and his father… It would be a cold day in hell Akihiko would let anyone attached to the Usami family near his son, and he wasn't the type to let unknown help near something so precious to him, so that left Takahashi's family…

"Is that brother of yours helping you any?" he addressed Takahashi. He was actually starting to feel kinda bad for the kid. He already must have a hell of a time living with Akihiko; Hiroki couldn't imagine the baby was any more pleasant domestic-wise.

Takahashi blushed. "Ah, no I couldn't possibly burden him —"

"He has a kid of his own already," Akihiko interrupted. "And we're doing fine without any other help, Hiroki. Don't worry about us."

Hiroki nearly rolled his eyes. He knew Akihiko could be a bit of a martyr when it came to those he actually gave a damn about if he was worried enough about their happiness, and by the looks of it his boytoy was far worse in that regard. Their poor kid was probably going to develop a guilt complex before he even started school.

Nowaki apparently decided he felt bad for the kid, too, because he said,"If you ever need any help, I'm sure I could recommend someone —"

"No." Akihiko's voice was steely and he was staring to glare. "No outside help is coming anywhere _near_ Yukihiko."

Hiroki snorted. He was right; Akihiko was being an idiot because of his possessiveness and whatever the hell had happened in his childhood that made him think it was terrible for a kid to be raised with the influence of anyone but their own family. He would be amazed if he and Takahashi didn't collapse of exhaustion before the kid's first birthday.

"No?" Nowaki said, bewildered at Akihiko's stone cold rejection. "But —"

Before Nowaki could register any real protest, the universe decided to announce it hated Hiroki, as Yuzumi suddenly opened her mismatched eyes and began to screech.

_Here we go, _Hiroki thought moments before Akihiko's brat decided to join in the quest to destroy Hiroki's hearing.

Hiroki tried his best not to glare at his daughter as he felt a headache coming on. Nowaki jumped up and grabbed Yuzumi, immediately beginning to soothe her, checking her diaper before he went off to get a bottle of formula from the fridge.

Hiroki winced and allowed his head to fall forward as he attempted to block out the noise with his forearms. Not long after, he felt a familiar small hand rub comforting circles on his upper back. "Are you alright, Hiroki-chan?" he heard his mother say.

"Headache," Hiroki mumbled, leaning into his mother's touch. As much as he hated to admit it, the actions that had been so comforting in his childhood were just as soothing now. He was grateful his mother had never stopped being a mother.

That thought made him pause. Putting your child's basic needs before your own more selfish desires was part and parcel of being a parent, when it came down to it. His mother had always taken care of him when he was sick, no matter how she felt; at least once she had stayed with him throughout the night when he had a fever hovering above forty, despite the fact that she hadn't slept since five a.m. Even his father had been there in his own way, reading to him and talking to him to stave away boredom. And what was Hiroki doing now? Mentally whining over same damn headache as Nowaki worked his magic to sate their daughter. He was being horribly selfish, wasn't he?

_Well, I'm not the only one here who can be selfish, _he thought bitterly and raised his head to look towards where Takahashi was holding his kid in his arms. Sure enough, Akihiko was nowhere near him, even as Takahashi desperately tried to soothe his brat, looking like he was about to cry.

No, wait, _there_ he was — dragging the baby bag they'd brought and searching through it, his arms quickly filling with toys, bottles, food and other assorted baby stuff before he went to try to calm Yukihiko with them, looking strangely anxious all the while.

Whatever self-assurance Hiroki had tried to just give himself disappeared as he watched Akihiko actually managing to be a responsible parent. Frowning, he shook off his mother's hand and tried not to wallow too much in self-pity.

"It took a while for your father to warm up to you, Hiroki-chan."

"Eh?" Hiroki snapped himself out of his reverie to turn towards his mother.

She gave a soft, motherly smile. "For the first few months, your father was not quite sure what to do with you. The colic didn't help, certainly. But then you started clinging to him, grabbing hold of him whenever he tried to put you down. You'd hold onto his shirt for hours, you know."

Hiroki tried to think of himself as clingy, but the notion didn't sit well with him. "Huh."

His mother continued speaking, her brown eyes soft and warm. "Something clicked with him, then — he never was the type of person people had a tendency to cling to, I guess. After that, I had trouble separating the two of you for quite some time." She giggled into her hand.

Hiroki considered this for a moment. Akihiko and Takahashi had managed to calm their son down, and Akihiko was now cradling him in his arms, smiling down at him as he rocked him back and forth. Over in the kitchen, Nowaki was in a similar position with Yuzumi. He sighed, rubbed his still aching forehead, and without looking to his mother, asked, "Do you think everyone is cut out to be a parent, Mom?"

"Well, no," his mother said, and Hiroki turned his head to look at her, startled. "Some people just aren't made for parenthood." She reached out her hand and stroked his hair as Hiroki swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "But I think worrying over something like that is a pretty good indication of a decent one."

"How is it you know what I'm thinking?" he groaned. The throb behind his eyes seemed to lessen at his mother's comfort.

His mother just gave a wider smile. "Why, Hiroki-chan, I've known what's on your mind since you were born." She stopped her hand's movements. "Now, do you think you want to go lie down? This party will only last a few more hours, anyway. Unless you want to talk to Akihiko-san?"

Hiroki gazed over at Akihiko, who was still looking lovestruck by his son. "I think lying down's a good idea," he said, and got up from the coach. He muttered a _"Thanks, Mom"_ before making his way to the hallway.

Before he reached his bedroom door, though he ran into his father, who was lurking about the hall. "Is it almost over?" he asked Hiroki. "There's only so long I can spend wearing earplugs."

Hiroki tried not to snort. "You'll be wearing earplugs far more often; who knows how long Nowaki and I — er, the three of us — will be here."

His father sighed. "I know." He paused. "Hiroki, would you like some earplugs? I have some extra."

Hiroki thought back to what had caused his headache in the first place and the bags under Akihiko's eyes and his mother mentioning colic. Then he thought of Nowaki, cradling their daughter in his arms as he beamed down at her. "Maybe later. We'll see," he said, before continuing down the hall to his room.

"Suit yourself," Hiroki heard his father say, and he slid the door closed behind him.

* * *

**Endnotes:**

**The naming ceremony, which appears to be called ****oshichiya meimeishiki**** (some sites list the second word's translation as "christening", and the first word appears to have to do with how it usually happens after seven days) is a ceremony in which the baby's name is displayed on a name certificate, and relatives and friends come forth to give gifts to the baby. At least, I think that's it - information was scarce, and I might have gotten stuff wrong, goodness knows. If anyone knows better, I'd love to know. :) **


	28. Chapter 19: All Couples

**First and foremost: I've been trying to reply to recent (within the past year) reviews. If I haven't replied to you, please understand it's not because I didn't appreciate the review, it's silly anxieties getting in the way, and I'll try to reply soon. I might reply even if you reviewed earlier, so hopefully no one minds a really late reply. Obviously, I can't reply to people who block PMs or people who leave reviews anonymously (here, anyway), but do know that I love and appreciate those reviews all the same.**

**As for cross-posting: I do plan to post this story to YFF and my as of yet unavailble Dreamwidth eventually, but I decided to do some editing before I posted there, and that editing has overwhelmed to the point of delying updates, so I hope you understand if I wait a bit before crossposting. The only editing I'm doing is stuff like occasionally adding sensory detail, fixing repetative phrases, grammar fixes and rewording awkward sentences, that sort of thing. I might possibly change the name of Misaki's mother (as mentioned in the "bedroom decoration" chapter), because I had an idea and... well, it will make sense later. It's no big deal, really.**

**And an important real life thing: I had hoped to post this before the end of October, but I live on Long Island (middle of the Island, nowhere near the shore) and Hurricane Sandy knocked out my power for seven days. My family and I are all safe, and my house sustained very little damage (a few shingles fell off), but many people weren't so lucky. Life is getting back to normal as much as it can this week (schools opening, people returning to work, etc), but there's still a lot of damage, and a lot needs to be done. If you've considered donating to the Red Cross (or any other reputable organization that's helping out areas damaged by Sandy), I encourage you to go ahead and do so. I'm sure you've heard this by now from sources more important/more persuasive than me, but I figured it couldn't hurt to add my voice to the choir.**

**Anyway, now on to far less serious things: this chapter is all couples plus Mistake. The couples are featured in each section in this order: Romantica, Egoist, Terrorist, Mistake. The next chapter will mimic this, and then there will be, due to the timeline, another Romantica chapter followed by Terrorist (alternatively, I may just decide to post Terrorist first. We'll see).**

**Chapter title taken from the very famous poem. All other notes at the end. **

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: The Night Before Christmas

"How much longer do you think they'll make us wait?"

Misaki looked over to where Usagi was standing, clad in ceremonial garb and a bored look on his face, the light snowfall framing him like a mildly surreal picture as it made its way to the ground. Yukihiko, also dressed as traditionally as they could manage without exposing him to the elements, was lying peacefully in Usagi's arms.

Misaki gave him a look. "What does it say about you that a thirty-six day old baby appears to have more patience than you?"

"I don't know, what does it say about me, Misaki?" Usagi retorted, and Misaki had to resist rolling his eyes; the winter kimono they were both dressed in were more than adequate for this kind of weather, and they hadn't even been outside the Torii gate for ten minutes

"That you're an annoying brat," Misaki mumbled.

Usagi looked smug. "Actually, the only thing that I'm really upset about is the six week wait. I'm so horn—"

"Usagi-san!" Misaki whispered harshly, eying Yukihiko nervously. Misaki had been hoping that being a parent would somehow make Usagi less perverted, but that hadn't happened. When Misaki had tried to point out that he could be scarring Yukihiko for life, Usagi had pointed out the baby had no idea what they were talking about, and wouldn't remember when he was old enough too understand. In the meantime, Usagi had taken to developing an elaborate code for when Yukihiko _could_ understand them. At least Usagi had agreed that any physical action beyond light kisses where Yukihiko could see was a no go.

"Oh, c'mon, Misaki, six weeks is to long to go without a fuc—"

"Usagi san!" Misaki nearly screeched; he hoped the priests in the Shinto shrine wouldn't hear them!

Yukihiko, of course, did, at least hear enough to start to cry. Before Misaki could even ask to have Yukihiko so he could calm him, Usagi took to rocking their son back into a peaceful state, muttering soothing things all the while. It made Misaki pause for a moment, as a lump formed in his throat and he started to feel a bit teary.

It almost made him feel bad that sex was off the table for six weeks post c-section due to medical reasons. The six week check-up for Yukihiko was where the doctor gave his okay in that area. Of course, Misaki wasn't sure they'd manage anything beyond a kiss or two but then Akihiko had called Takahiro; he'd agreed to watch Yukihiko for a day as soon as he heard "six weeks", with the condition that Usagi wouldn't mention anything further. The appointment was scheduled for the day before New Year's Eve, or, as Usagi had taken to calling it, "The Day of Liberation".

Nothing that Misaki was looking forward to it, or anything along those lines.

In any case, they'd scheduled Yukihiko's first shrine visit for Christmas Eve ages ago, on the basis that there would be few other people visiting the shrine today. The priests at this shrine were aware of the male pregnancy cases, and had graciously agreed to perform the omiyamairi ceremony for any child from such a union. Unfortunately, to keep the whole thing as secret as possible, they had to wait for the priest's signal that the shrine was clear of visitors.

In any case, it wasn't the exact date they were supposed to be here — that would have been on Kamijou Yuzumi's naming ceremony, but he liked it this way; the lack of crowds was comforting. Not that it really mattered, since it turned out the whole murder that had started the secrecy thing was motivated by something entirely different than hate, but still, it was nice to not have to worry about being stared at or attracting strange looks. They had, however, agreed to go with his brother and his family on New Year's Eve to one of the larger shrines in Tokyo to ring in the new year, but at least they'd be all bundled up, and the large crowd would be very distracted.

"The man is signaling us in now,"Usagi said suddenly, and Misaki had startled himself from his thoughts and had looked straight ahead, tightening his hold on his camera in anticipation.

Sure enough, a priest was straight ahead, waving them towards him.

"Let's go," Misaki said, and they made their way forward, leaving behind only footprints in the snow.

* * *

"Christmas Eve is for lovers," Hiroki's mother had told him that chilly morning as she'd offered to watch Yuzumi by herself that night so that he and Nowaki could go out on their own somewhere. Hiroki had bitten back a comment of just what she and his dad were then, because while his mother had been extremely helpful so far, Nowaki's personality naturally led him to want to care for Yuzumi, to the point that his mother and Nowaki were both trying to care for Yuzumi at the same time. Even when she was, in fact, sleeping.

As for Hiroki… his inclinations ran towards "let the others handle it".

In any case, his mother's generous offer was the reason he and Nowaki were currently strolling down one of the not-as-densely populated streets of Tokyo — hand in hand, since Hiroki was feeling unusually generous.

They spent most of their time in quiet conversation about nothing and everything, at least until Nowaki suddenly stopped short at a toy store and stared at the window display.

"Do you think Yuzumi would like that, Hiro-san?" he asked, referring to some toy in the display; Hiroki didn't bother to even trying to figure out which toy Nowaki was referring to.

"How am I supposed to know? Get it for her, if you want."

Nowaki looked at him oddly. "Hiro-san —"

"What? Do you really expect me to try to guess at the opinion of someone who reaction would be most likely to stare and it and then proceed to drool over it?" Hiroki nearly bit his lip, mentally cursing himself. That wasn't the best thing to say…

But where he expected Nowaki to be frowning at him, at the very least, he just looked really amused — happy, even. "Hiro-san, are you jealous of Yuzumi?"

Hiroki felt his face flush as he stuttered over words before finally getting out a, "What? No! Why the hell would I be jealous of my own 3-week old daughter?"

Nowaki was sparkling. "It's okay, Hiro-san. It's a perfectly normal reaction. Plenty of new dads get jealous of the attention their partner gives the new baby."

"I'm not —"

Nowaki just continued grinning like an idiot, pushing his head forwards meeting Hiroki's forehead with his own, the warmth of his breath tickling Hiroki's nose. Hiroki tried not to frown as he flitted his gaze down from Nowaki's.

"Do you think I can handle alcohol yet?"

Nowaki laughed. "I think we should probably wait until the sixth week check-up, just in case."

"All the fun stuff can't happen till that stupid checkup," Hiroki mumbled as he pulled his head away from Nowaki's.

"You're so cute, Hiro-san," Nowaki said far too cheerfully.

"Shut up," Hiroki muttered as he covered his mouth with his scarf and told himself the redness of his face was only from the cold.

* * *

"This holiday, the trendiest place to buy Christmas Cakes is Kuma Bakery, a newly renovated shop on —"

Shinobu glared at the television's screen as it reminded him of the date. Miyagi had gone off somewhere to pick up Shinobu's gift, apparently, and he'd been gone for several hours. It was quickly approaching midnight, and the man still wasn't home yet. Whatever snow was on the ground was mild, so Shinobu knew that wasn't it. Even worse, when he'd tried to call him, he'd discovered Miyagi had left his cell phone in the apartment. Shinobu had therefore spent the last few hours vacillating between being pissed off at Miyagi and worried sick he'd slipped on ice and slipped into unconsciousness, no one noticing as they passed him by. At least Miyagi had, after the incident with the hospital, changed Shinobu to his emergency contact (why Miyagi hadn't changed it ages ago Shinobu had been kind enough not to ask, though that hadn't stopped him from glowering at the man for days).

In any case, Shinobu couldn't look for him, since his state as both a pregnant man and an incredibly large one was keeping him housebound.

It was more than a little frustrating. He still had three more to go, and already Shinobu was wishing the babies would be born already. He really wanted his body back.

Even worse were the cravings. The sex ones were fine, though they seemed to be waning, but the ones related to food were hell.

Shinobu's cravings were both constant and incredibly irritating. When he was twelve, his family had taken a trip to Europe. He'd eaten some very strange foods, at least to his palate, mostly to say he had. He hadn't even liked most of them, but now he was constantly craving them: escargot, foie gras, haggis — hell, even the kangaroo he'd had once in Australia. That wasn't even common food there! Of course, food that _was_ common there wasn't necessarily easy to find in Japan, either — he still hadn't found a shop that selled malamite.

It could be worse, he supposed. He could be craving sushi.

Suddenly, Shinobu heard the sound of the front door being swung open. He perked up, looking towards the door as Miyagi called out a soft, "I'm home."

Shinobu didn't even welcome him home, instead chosing to glare at the entryway as he prepared to find out just why Miyagi had taken so long.

When Miyagi reached him, carrying more than a few cardboard boxes, he took one look at Shinobu and sighed. "Look, before you kill me —" He placed the packages on the table and then proceeded to rummage through one of the drawers in the kitchen until he found a box cutter. After fumbling with it for a few moments, he managed to get the package open and took out some cans. "Here," he said, and Shinobu's glare immediately softened as he gazed upon the cans he now held in his hands. Peanut butter. Malamite.

"How did you — "

"Internet," Miyagi said by way of explanation. "I had them deliver to Kamijou's parents' house, where he's currently living = that's why I was so late, by the way, Kamijou and his lover boy were out for the night, and his parents had taken out their granddaughter to a friend's or something along those lines. And then I forgot my phone —"

Shinobu could only stare at him, speechless. He could feel tears forming in his eyes. "Miyagi," he said, "you're hopeless, you know that?"

Miyagi looked indignant. "Hey, I go out of my way for you, and you —" He stopped abruptly as Shinobu gave him a hug (or at least, tried to; his stomach got in the way).

"I love you, you hopeless and pathetic idiot," Shinobu said affectionately, his voice gruff with emotion, and he could only smile as Miyagi ran his hand through his hair.

"I'm glad for it."

* * *

The hands of the clock on the wall were inching closer to midnight. Once it hit, Christmas Eve would pass, and it would only be seven more days until New Year's Eve and the start of one long hospital for Isaka Ryuuichirou.

"Ryuuichiro-sama, you're not falling asleep in there, are you?"

"No," Isaka said as he sank further into the tub, "I'm being good."

He wasn't tired at all, really; he was always up this late Christmas Eve, and it was no different this time, even if he had a condition that could cause fatigue. It was a tradition of theirs, his and Asahina's, to exchange gifts once the clock struck midnight.

Well, not exactly his and _Asahin_a's now…

Finding out the news of… Isaka's condition had not been a pleasant experience for either of them. After throughly punishing Akihiko with mountains of work for having his editor give Isaka the pamphlet from hell, he'd come to the conclusion that if he was going to experience such a bad sickness, he might as well get something out if it. In this case, it was the heir to the family name that would stop his father from pestering him about settling down. Knowing the exact nature of the relationship between his son and said son's secretory hadn't stopped him; he only went on about how marriage did not have to be a love match.

Isaka's father had, eventually, accepted what had happened. As for the elder Asahina's — no, _Kaoru's_ — father…

Well, not so much.

There hadn't been many any shouting or tears of any sort, no loud displays of emotion, only the chilly words of the older man remarking that maybe it would have been better if Kaoru hadn't lived through his father's attempt at familial suicide years ago. Kaoru had only had only sat there, shocked, as his father continued on to say that perhaps it was a good thing a good thing the elder lady Asahina had such an advanced stage of Alzheimer's, so would never know the truth about her youngest son. At the time, Isaka hadn't understood why his father also demanded Kaoru give him the watch he'd had since he was a teen; later, he'd learned that the watch had been given to Kaoru by his beloved grandfather on his deathbed, a last goodbye when he was rendered mute from a stroke. In any case, Kaoru hadn't said anything and when they left immediately afterwords, it wasn't until they'd had comfort sex in Kauro's appartment that he'd seemed to come back to himself.

The letter that had arrived less than a week later had not been good to Kaoru's emotional state. Isaka's father had tried to talk to Kaoru's father at first, but in the end he'd only come back with broken ties between the Isaka family and the Asahinas they'd saved years ago; he had officially adopted Kaoru after that, allowing him to use the Isaka last name (though he'd still use his old name at work).

Kaoru had remained stoic to the changes, but Isaka knew that in the room they'd given him for his private use he still kept the letter telling of him of his disownment and requesting that he stop using the Asahina name immediately, along with any visits to his mother's hospital room.

"Ryuuichirou," Kaoru said calmly, suddenly at the side of the tub, snapping Isaka's focus back to Earth from whatever planet it had wandered to, "do you even plan on leaving the bath any time soon, or would you prefer to look like a smushed prune?"

"I don't care what I look like as long as I'm attractive to you," Isaka said flirtatiously. It was what he'd been telling himself for months as he'd been telling with the ever increasing size of his bulging gut.

Kaoru shook his head with a sigh and grabbed his arm. "Come on, before the water gets so cold you end up _developing_ a cold.

"Colds aren't caused by exposure to cold, you know," Isaka said, trying not to whine as he begrudgingly let Kaoru help lift him out of the tub.

"It comprises your immune system." Kaoru handed him what had to be the largest towel in thee world, followed by a peculiar looking bathrobe. "And that would be a terrible thing now, wouldn't it? At least wait a week to go ruining your health; it's not only your own self you'd damaged at this point."

Isaka ignored the guilt settling in his gut, instead just snatching the blowdryer from Kaoru's hands turning it on his hair.

Isaka's hair was both thick and had some length to it; he had managed to get it to damp when he heard a maid call through the door, "Master Kaoru, Master Shinichirou wants me to give you this list of names for you and master Ryuuichiro to pick from,"

Asahina grimaced and opened the door, revealing an aging petite woman clutching onto a piece of paper. "Asako-san, I've told you more than once you don't need to call me master." His voice held no anger, only tiredness.

"I know, but —"

"What do we have here?" Isaka said as he snatched the paper from the woman's hand and looked it over, interrupting the awkward conversation Kaoru had been in several dozen times for the last few months. "Did my mother finally come up with the shortlist?"

Originally, Isaka's father had wanted his son to step down from his position on the board of Marukawa, at least for a little while. Isaka had vehemently refused, and in the end had gotten his father to agree to letting him take a more diplomatic position for a few months, working as a contact for overseas deals they'd been trying to get for awhile now, and doing whatever other work he could from home. Part of the negotiations had involved letting the older man pick the baby's name — or rather, giving the two of them a small list to choose from.

The list itself wasn't surprising. They'd found out they were having a son months ago, and since then his father had been very carefully going over a list of names that wouldn't sound outdated. The various kanji his father had chosen were the same as ones in the name of the Ryuuichirou, or father, or grandfather, or all three. "They're all fine with me, as long as the pronunciation chosen is different from the one in my name." He'd had enough time growing up when he'd hear the end of a name and had to figure out which Isaka male they were talking about. He looked at Kaoru. "Surprise me, why don't you?"

"As you wish," Kaoru said, perhaps with a hint of sarcasm.

Isaka didn't have a chance to come up with a snappy reply before a servant walked up to him, bowed, and said, "Master Ryuuichirou, your mother is on the phone."

Isaka frowned. "My mother is calling this late?" he mumbled to himself as he took the phone from the servant.

"Ryuuichirou, how is everything with the baby doing?" his mother said after he greeted her.

He winced. His mother had accepted what was happening… sort of. She still acted as though Isaka himself wasn't pregnant, but instead some other unnamed person. He put on his best voice as he replied, "Splendidly. How is it gong with arraging the omiyamairi at Kumatori?" They'd decided to have the ceremony at his mother's hometown near Osaka.

"Just lovely. We're looking at January first, the day after the oschichiya — which, by the way, will be a small party; I would have liked a larger one, bit well…"

There was a significant pause.

Isaka coughed. "Right. Well, if all goes according to plan, Kaoru and I will arrive with your grandson on the twenty-sixth, and we'll stay till the twentieth."

"And I will come back with you," his mother said pleasantly. They were only staying so long so his mother could celebrate her sixty-fifth birthday with her sisters, and so they could have familal support for taking care of the baby for the first few months; after that, both he and Kaoru would return to work. His mother started talking again. "It's been a lovely conversation, my dear, but I need to get a good night's rest. You do know how I need my beautiful."

"Your always beautiful, mother."

His mother laughed delightedly. "You're always so charming, Ryuu-chan. I'm so glad I raised you so well."

There was a bit of a lump in this throat as he wished his mother a good night's sleep and hung up the phone.

The chimes of the old grandfather clock sounded then, ringing through the house and reminded Isaka he needed to make his way to the parlor, where he and Kaoru would exchange presents.

"Alright," Isaka as he entered the parlor, making his way to the plant behind which he'd hidden Kaoru's present. Kaoru was already there, of course, the very definition of punctuality. "Gift exchange time. You go first."

Kaoru procurred from behind his back a large, leafy plant. It had vermilion pointed leaves and the most saturated green leaves Isaka had ever seen. "Here," Kaoru said. "For you. A poinsettia."

"A what?" Isaka said, turning the giant pot in his hands. He couldn't remember ever seeing this before.

"A poinsettia," he repeated. "It's a very common Christmas flower in America. I got it when we were in New York during that week of contract discussions."

"Huh. Cool," Isaka said. He knew that transporting any plants internationally was tricky due to both laws concering invasive species and the time it took to fly. Admittedly, they had a private jet, but, still… He made a mental note to put it next to the plant he'd given Kaoru when they were kids as soon as he got the chance.

He picked up a small wrapped box and handed it over to Kaoru. "Here's your present. Sorry it's not as big as yours."

Kaoru gave him a bovine look. "Since it's Christmas, I won't make a comment on that," he said flatly as he carefully opened the wrapping paper then the box inside.

There was a heavy silence as Kaoru started at what was in the box. "Ryuuichirou," he said quietly, "where did you find such an accurate replica of my grandfather's watch?"

Isaka smiled weakly and put his hand on Kaouro's shoulder, "It's not a replicia, Kaoru."

Kaoru looked up at him in disbelief, his hands trembling slightly. "But how..?"

Isaka shrugged. "They don't call me silver tongued for nothing." When Kaoru only continued staring at him, he sighed. 'Okay, there may have been an arranged meeting between your brother and a certain Usami heiress that also happen's to be Haruhiko's cousin."

"The girl he was supposed to marry…?"

Isaka laughed. "No. She would have pitched a fit, from what I understand. The girl I got to meet Osamu is the daughter of the brother of Haruhiko's stepmother, I believe. Or half-brother. I forget." He hadn't even met the girl, just left it all up to Haruhiko and the man's father, who had been very willingly to help after Isaka mentioned that Akihiko was the one who gave him the pamphlet in the first place, and that said misanthropic author was taking a large amount of time off in the winter. "Anyway, apparently they hit it off; they're both into some strange hobby, wood carvings or ice sculpture or something along those lines, so there was no furthering meddling needed. Last I heard the girl had decided to take an extended stay in Japan instead of going home to London, and they both had plans to be at the same restaurant tonight."He'd been relieved at that development; after managing to finagle his way out of being forced into an arranged marriage by happenstance, he'd hate to have to enforce it on anyone else for his own ends.

Kaoru, hands still trembling, took out the watch and put it on his wrist. "I don't know what to say."

"It's alright," Isaka said smoothly, "neither of us are good with that mushy stuff anyway."

"You're right,' Kaoru said, brightly smiling up at him and making Isaka's heart thump loudly. "Actions speak louder than words."

And with that, Kaoru reached over and kissed him on the lips, and that was more thanks enough.

* * *

**Endnotes: An ****oschichiya is a ceremony (traditionally taking place 31 days after a baby boy is born and 32 after a baby girl) wherein the baby is welcomed into the community at a Shinto shrine.**

**As always, all comments welcome, and favorites and alerts are much appreciated. **


	29. Chapter 20, Part 1: Mistake & Romantica

**Notes: Um, hi. So, yeah, it's been awhile. I know I told at least one person that this would be up waaaaaaaaay earlier, and for that I apologize.**

**Basically, the problem has been two things. One is that I lost some of the physical bits I wrote on paper, and rewriting them and remembering them has been a pain.**

**The other is a bit more complex. Basically, when I start slipping into any sort of depression lately, one of the first things I do is guilt trip myself over things I like that are problematic. I know fiction and reality are very much too different things, and it's okay for me to like things/tropes in a fictional context only, but sometimes I still get some cognitive dissonance over it. (Or more simply: my brain goes, "oh noes! I like reading about fictional relationships that would be dangerous in real life, and with consent issues! Bad Scriverane, bad!" and then I mope about it and have to remind myself that I like reading about some problematic tropes for a variety of reasons, and that fiction =/= reality). So, yeah. (Uh, and we do all know that in real life, consent is not just the absence of a 'no', but the presence of a yes and/or enthusiastic participation, yes? And that consent to sex one time with somebody does not mean any other sex is automatically consented to, even in a mutual relationship. And... okay, I'll stop here before I get really annoying and patronizing). **

**Okay, now on to things actually relevant to the chapter: first up is Mistake, then Romantica, then Terrorist, then Egoist. I labeled their sections. In this half, we have Mistake and Romantica, then next half is the Terrorist and Egoist stuff. Mistake part is three scenes long; the rest are one scene.  
**

**The chapter title is from a pretty well-known New Year's Eve song. I think that's it? Oh, uh, review responses: I'll try to get to them in the next couple of days, but I've been a bit out of it lately, so... we'll see. Oh, and I was thinking of labeling the fic with the character labels. Since there's four available per fic now, it would be the two couples with the most written about them, probably. But I feel bad about excluding the other one, so we'll see. **

**Anyway, if you're still reading this fic despite my inconsistency in updates, you are awesome and deserve a hug and cookies and other good things.  
**

**The next chapter will be Romantica, then Terrorist. I'd put Terrorist first, but I have the Romantica chapter completely written out (on paper) though it's a bit of a mess and I have to edit it. Terrorist chapter is part way done. So there's that.**

* * *

Chapter 20: And Auld Lange Syne

* * *

_Mistake_

It was approaching midnight on New Year's Eve. Normally Kaoru would be at a typical Isaka family New Year's Eve party, keeping an eye on Ryuuichirou to make sure he wasn't getting so drunk he'd end up passing out during hime kajime – an occurrence that had happened once, and he planned to make sure never happened again. However, this year there was no Isaka family New Year's Eve party, only a hospital bed where a very whiny Ryuuichirou lay.

"I'm hungry. Why haven't I been given any food yet?" Ryuuichirou said with a pout. Pouting was one of the few things that both Kaoru and Ryuuichirou's father had a weakness to.

Still, the elder Isaka wasn't having any of it. "Because you just had surgery, son," he said. While the Isaka patriarch looked more amused than anything else at his son's antics, the matriarch of the family would've rolled her eyes and sighed. However, she wasn't with them at the hospital. Which, to be honest, was a good thing, as Kaoru didn't think she'd cope well with the fact that her son was in a hospital bed due to a pregnancy in his own body. "Stop whining. The doctor said you can't eat, and the nurse won't be back for a few hours at least."

Ryuuichirou looked hopeful. "Is she pretty?"

Kaoru sucked in a breath. Ryuuichirou had undergone surgery to remove his appendix a few years ago, and he'd spent much of his recovery flirting with every nurse on the floor. Kaoru was aware this was Ryuuichirou's way of manipulating people to get whatever he wanted, and most of the nurses had seen through his superficial charms, but Kaoru had still spent the entire stay in a foul mood. He'd refused Ryuuichirou sex for a week after he'd recovered.

"I suppose he's attractive," the elder Isaka said, his lips betraying a slight smile. "But I don't swing that way. What did you think, Kaoru?"

"He's not my type," Kaoru answered, truthfully. Before he and Ryuuichirou had gotten together, Kaoru's type had been anyone who resembled Ryuuichirou in any way, shape, or form. Which was rather pathetic, really.

Ryuuichirou hummed. "I wonder if the blonde from last time still works here."

"That was a different hospital," Kaoru said flatly.

His father raised his eyebrow and gave his son a look, lips pursed.

"What?" Ryuuichirou tilted his head as he eyed his father. "I'm in a monogamous relationship, that doesn't mean I've lost all sense of attraction to other people. And unlike you, I don't limit myself to one gender."

The elder Isaka shook his head. "I don't – wait, don't touch that, Ryuuichirou!"

The latter was a phrase Ryuuichirou's parents had often said throughout his childhood. If Itsuki was anything like his younger father, raising him was going to be one hell of a ride.

Ryuuichirou looked at his father with wide, innocent eyes. "I just wanted to see what it's made of. Not much else to do here, anyway."

"You know," Kaoru said as he watched Ryuuichirou fiddle with his IV tubing, "one child in the house will be difficult enough to handle. There's no way we can deal with two. What do you think, Isaka-san? Should we leave Ryuuichirou behind when we leave the hospital?"

"Hey!" Ryuuichirou said, dropping the tubing and turning his head to glare at Kaoru.

The elder Isaka clicked his tongue. "So cruel, Kaoru-kun."

"Exactly!"

"Marukawa wouldn't function as well without him," the elder Isaka continued. "The better option would be to drop him off at the office and lock him in. He could surely live off vending machine food."

"It wouldn't be much different from what they're feeding me here," he mumbled. Then added, more clearly, "If this is a decision by committee, I veto the idea. Besides, don't I get the mansion when you die?"

"Sort of," the elder Isaka said, steepling his fingers. "I changed the will recently. As of now, it goes straight into the possession of Itsuki, with Kaoru named as executor if he's still a minor."

Warmth settled in Kaoru's chest. He recognized this was the elder Isaka's way of making Kaoru part of the family.

Still, Ryuuichirou wasn't much appreciative of the gesture. "What?! Do I at least still get the Marukawa stock, or does that go to Itsuki, too?"

The elder Isaka dropped his gaze and whistled innocently.

"Great, he's not even a day old and he already has more of an inheritance than I do."

The elder Isaka only shook his head. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm still leaving you the villa in Tuscany."

"But I haven't been there in decades!" Ryuuichirou cried.

"Pity. You're missing out on a fantastic opportunity, son. Why, I remember how your mother and I use to use the villa as a lover's escape all the time! You were conceived there, you know."

Ryuuichirou stared at his father, open-mouthed and utterly mortified. "I didn't know that," he said slowly, "and I really didn't want to."

Kaoru figured this was a good chance to sneak out. He hadn't properly seen Itsuki yet, and he needed to get himself something caffeinated if he planned to stay up for the first sunrise of the new year. "I'll be back," he muttered as he left the room, shutting the door before Ryuuichirou could register any sort of protest.

* * *

Kaoru would've liked to be able to say he was already able to identify his son by sight, like some honing parental vision. Unfortunately, however, he had to read the nametags to find Isaka Itsuki.

There. A healthy baby boy with – Kaoru could see it now – a small tuft of red hair. The baby was sleeping, so Kaoru couldn't even try to gaze at his eyes, but from what the nurses had said a while ago, Itsuki's eyes were the blue-gray color several people started with at birth.

"Kaoru?"

He hadn't expected that voice. He turned towards it to see his sister, her normally smooth scarlet hair frazzled, brown eyes bloodshot. In her hands, she held a Styrofoam cup with a lid; steam was rising from it.

"Keiko," Kaoru said, "what are you doing here?"

Keiko raised one eyebrow at him – a technique, he remembered, she had perfected after hours of practicing in front of the mirror. "Why am _I_ here? You don't know?"

"Should I?"

Keiko shifted on her feet and ran a hand through her hair. "I think so." She sighed, looking down at her cup before meeting his gaze again. "Mom's here. She has pneumonia. They doubt she'll last longer than a day or two; she'll be lucky to make it through the night."

Kaoru suddenly found it difficult to breathe. A chill ran through him; despite that, his hands were covered in sweat. "She's at the last stage of Alzheimer's?"

Keiko bit her lip and started to fidget with her cup, thumb tracing the rim of the lid. "She's been at the last stage for a few months now. Didn't Dad tell you?"

Kaoru shoved his hands in his pockets, posture going rigid. "We're not precisely on speaking terms," he said.

Keiko frowned, but gave him a pitying glance. She took a sip of coffee before she spoke again. "He said something to me a few months ago about how you abandoned us and weren't on speaking terms with any of the family anymore."

Kaoru jaw dropped; his throat felt strangely dry, and he was starting to get dizzy. "He said that?"

Keiko didn't say much at first, still frowning and fidgeting. She dropped his gaze before she glanced at the glass pane of the nursery. She took another drink before speaking again. "Well, yeah. I figured it wasn't you; that's just not like you." Keiko paused, her lips pursed.  
"Look, did you get a woman pregnant and can't marry her, or something along those lines? Because, well..." Her eyes darted back to the glass pane.

Kaoru paused, trying to figure out what to say next. "Something like that."

Keiko nodded, still not looking away from the nursery. She mumbled a barely audible, "doesn't seem like something you'd do, more like Ryuuichirou-sama."

It was a good thing Keiko was the one with the coffee; had he been drinking it, he would've choked. As it was, he coughed awkwardly.

Keiko stood on tiptoes as she leaned forward, peering through the glass. "Which one?" She turned her gaze back to Kaoru. "If you don't mind me asking. I swear I won't even glimpse the names."

Kaoru frowned, before saying, "row farthest from us, second on the left."

Keiko turned back to the pane, a watery smile gracing her face. "The redhead? I won't be the only one in the family anymore?"

His heart thumped painfully. "I suppose you could say that," he said dryly.

She whirled to look at him, her grip on the cup tightening. "Ah, Kaoru-nii, I didn't mean –"

He smiled at her as sweetly as he could under the circumstances. None of this was her fault. Still, he knew there was a slight bitterness to his smile. "It's okay." He hesitated, before adding, "His name is Itsuki."

Keiko swallowed audibly. "I'll be sure to tell mom that."

Kaoru must have looked quite shocked, because Keiko began to chuckle. "That's the most I've seen you react since I've known you, Niichan," she said, eyes alight and she went into full on uproarious laughter. Once she calmed down, she asked, "So, do I know the mother, or..."

He started coughing again. Keiko had spent much of her childhood looking at Ryuuichirou with hearts in her eyes, declaring she was going to be his bride someday. "Perhaps," he went with.

Keiko blushed, possibly having realized the futility of the question. "Well, I'll be going then." She stood awkwardly for a moment. "I... hope to see you soon, somehow."

He swallowed. "I'd like that."

She gave a slight nod of the head and turned rigidly, walking in the general direction of the elevator.

Kaoru let his gaze wander back to the nursery. He searched for Itsuki again, but his vision had become blurry.

He whipped away his tears before making his way back to Ryuuichirou's room.

* * *

"Kaoru? Are you alright?"

He'd been trying to keep his distress from appearing on his face, but Ryuuichirou had clearly seen right through him, his eyes bright with concern.

"I'm fine," he said stiffly. "How are you doing, Ryuuichirou-sama?"

Ryuuichirou must have been truly worried, because he didn't even bother to correct him on the honorific. "What happened?" he demanded, and the cutting look he gave him was enough to get Kaoru to confess. He was exhausted anyway.

"I meet my sister in the hall, by the nursery."

"She's here?" Ryuuichirou furrowed his brow.

"Yes. She says the whole family is here..." He took a deep breath. "My mother doesn't have very long now, from what I understand, so they say their last goodbyes." His throat was thick and painful, and he couldn't bring himself to say another word.

"Kaoru," Isaka said gently, his eyes wide.

"I'll be back," the elder Isaka said, and Kaoru was grateful to the man.

"It's okay, I'll be fine."

Ryuuichirou rolled his eyes. "Sure, I believe you." He paused for a moment. "I could probably get someone to let you in to see her, if I play my cards right."

Kaoru smiled weakly. "Thank you, but my immediate family members are all in there. I wouldn't want to disturb them at a time like this."

Ryuuichirou fell back onto his pillow with a sigh. "Whatever, you martyr."

A few moments of silence passed before Ryuuichirou began to fidget, and then lifted his head again. "You know, your mother might want to know she's a grandmother."

Kaoru swallowed thickly. The words stung, even if Ryuuichirou hadn't meant them to. "My sister said she would tell her. Besides, her mind is so far out of it she doesn't recognize anyone. It would do just as well for me to tell her by her grave." A knot formed in his stomach. He could see the family grave in Zōshigaya in his mind's eye. Kaoru doubted they'd allow him to attend the funeral. He'd have to go on his own time to light incense and say his goodbyes and wish her spirit peace.

When he opened his eyes, Ryuuichirou was staring at him with a lost, puppy dog-like expression. It didn't suit him. "Kaoru, I'm sorry for making you go through this."

Kaoru bit the inside of his cheek. The narcotics and post-natal hormones must be a potent mix, to cause Ryuuichirou to act like this. "Don't be stupid. It's not your fault my father is so closed-minded. And it takes two to tango, you know."

Ryuuichirou frowned. "Still, I –"

The sound of a door opening interrupted their conversation.

Ryuuichirou and Kaoru both turned their heads to see the elder Isaka returning with a blue cloth-covered bundle in his arms.

Kaoru heard Ryuuichirou's breath hitch, and watched from the corner of his eye as the younger man attempted to pull himself up to see better, only to collapse back to the bed, his eyes wide.

"Dad," Ryuuichirou said once he'd regained his composure, though his fingers were making soft bunches in the sheets, "how did you get him out of the nursery without an orderly tackling you?"

The elder Isaka jutted his chin, his chest thrust forward and there was a smug gleam to his eyes. "Must I remind you from whom you learned those skills of persuasion?"

"I don't know, must you?" Ryuuichirou replied listlessly.

Close up, Kaoru could see with an increased clarity the tuft of red hair that he'd seen through the window with Keiko only moments before. Moments? It felt more like days.

"I think it's best he spends his first New Year's Eve with family, yes?" the elder Isaka rumbled. "Here, Kaoru, you can hold him."

Before Kaoru could even get a word in, the elder Isaka was handing him the small, precious bundle. Looking down at him, he didn't look like much – besides the distinctive red hair, he looked the same as any other newborn, scrunched up and incredibly tiny. Kaoru's mouth was extremely dry; he felt as though he should say something, a word of greeting at the very least, but his throat wouldn't let him form the words; and in any case, nothing he could say seemed to be of much importance right now.

Instead, he met the eyes of the elder Isaka, and managed the most deep, meaningful, "thank you" of his entire life.

"It's getting close to midnight," Ryuuichirou said.

Kaoru turned his gaze toward the analog clock above the doorway; it indicated the new year was only minutes away.

A new year that, hopefully, would be better than the last.

* * *

_Romantica_

"Usagi-san, do you think you can hold him for the rest of the night? My arms feel tired."

Akihiko cast his eyes about for the fangirl who'd spotted him earlier; she hadn't talked to him or anything, but she snapped a picture of him and excitedly pointed him out to her friends. She could have just found him attractive, but he didn't want to take his chances. Things looked good right now, though; after she and her friends had slunk away further into the crowd, embarrassed, when he'd pulled up his scarf and hood, she hadn't bothered to return to that spot. No one else was eying him, all too caught up in the final few minutes to midnight and a new year.

"I can take him," Akihiko said, and quietly and carefully took Yukihiko from Misaki's arms, trading him the camera.

"Thanks," Misaki said. There were bags under his eyes, and Akihiko knew there were some under his too. Despite the exhaustion that caring for a small child bought, he and Misaki had a great time earlier in bed when they'd finally gotten it all to the themselves and after more "strenuous activities" had been approved by the doctor.

They'd worked out the whole co-sleeping thing not long after Yukihiko was born; most nights he'd get to sleep in the bed with both of them or whichever one of them was occupying the bed that night. If Akihiko – or Misaki – felt so exhausted he was afraid he'd roll over in a deep sleep, the baby slept in the sturdy, immobile bassinet currently occupying a cleaned out corner of the master bedroom. Finally, on nights when things were to happen between the sheets, Yukihiko would spend the night in his crib. Yukihiko had yet to sleep in his crib, of course, since last night he'd stayed with Takahiro and his family. Mostly the baby slept between Misaki and Akihiko, and honestly, it was something they all enjoyed. And with the addition of a small refrigerator at the bedside to store filled bottles in, they didn't have to get up nearly as much. "He should stay up until midnight; hold him close, the drum will probably startle him."

"I know," Akihiko said, pleasantly amused. He and Misaki had had a long conversation days ago on where to spend New Year's Eve. Misaki's parents had taken him every year to the Meiji Shrine until their deaths, so in the end it was pretty much a shoe-in, despite the crowds and long wait. "We went over this a dozen times already."

"I wouldn't worry too much, Misaki," Takahiro jumped in. "No one is going to hear a baby over the drum, anyway. And it's not like we're at Zojoji."

Mahiro was blinking away sleep in his father's arms, but he still managed to keep an eye on his baby cousin. It wasn't all that surprising; according to his parents, Mahiro had spent the entire time they were babysitting Yukihiko earlier watching the baby, despite said infant's lack of doing anything that would interest a four-year old, or indeed, most people. He'd even stayed up much of the night watching over his cradle like a sentry, trying to soothe Yukihiko with soft words every time the baby cried. Between that and calling him "Yuki-chan," Mahiro seemed completely enamored with his younger cousin, making Akihiko wonder if familial love was an innate Takahashi trait. He was grateful for it, in any case.

"Leave them be, Taka-chan," Manami said. She looked nearly as exhausted as her son, lightly gripping her husband's shoulder. "We were just as worried when we first took Maa-chan here."

"You were, I was fine," Takahiro replied.

"I wasn't the one constantly trying to look up the temperature," Manami said, her tone slightly dry. Still, her eyes had a mischievous, teasing light to them.

Takahiro blushed; perhaps that was a Takahashi trait, too. "It was _cold_ that day!"

"How much longer do we have, anyway?" Akihiko said, interrupting the conversation. It _was_ starting to get pretty cold outside...

"Not much longer, Usagi-san," Misaki said cheerfully. "They should start beating the drum soon."

"I think they're preparing to do so now," Manami observed.

As the drum sounded, Yukihiko's face scrunched up as if to cry. Quickly, Akihiko began to rock him, shifting his arms in an effort to further block out the noise and protectively cuddle him closer to his chest.

As Yukihiko began to calm down, Akihiko said as clearly as he could through the din,"Happy new year, my son. May your first year of life be more pleasant than mine." He swallowed thickly before muttering to himself, "I'll do my best to make sure of it."

* * *

**Notes:**

**cosleeping: Oh, boy. The practice of cosleeping - that is, an adult sharing a bed with a child - is fairly common in Japan and other non-Western countries. However, at least in Western countries, there is a huge controversy over co-sleeping, because some studies have linked cosleeping and SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome). There's controversy over exactly how the two are linked, if there's other factors other than cosleeping that are confusing the results, but, basically - in the West, at least, this is a highly controversial issue. That being said, I decided the couples would cosleep - at least in this story - because of cultural and characterization reasons. I hope that's clear? **

**Meiji Shrine and ****Zojoji (Temple) - Two of the most popular public destinations for New Year's Eve in Tokyo. The first is a Shinto shrine and the second is a Buddhist temple. From what I read, Meiji Shrine is more of a quiet reflection type place and Zojoji is a spectacle (it's near Tokyo Tower). Anyway, if I got any of that wrong just holler at me and I'll try to fix it.**

**Continue on to the next half for the New Year's Eve of the other two couples.**


	30. Chapter 20, Part 2: Terrorist & Egoist

_Terrorist_

"The fact that there are only five of us here feels strange," Shinobu's mother remarked. "I've gotten so used to holding parties." She sipped a glass of Chardonnay as she relaxed on the sofa across from Miyagi.

"I think it's better this way," the dean opined, smiling tenderly at his wife. He touched her shoulder. "You're feeling under the weather as it is."

The loveseat Miyagi was sitting on was close enough for conversation, but he didn't want to interrupt the older couple. He preferred to be a lurker, watching at a distance. He supposed he should be working on grading his students' midterms – he'd bought them with him, after all – but he found watching the couple with so many years of love between them to be far more fascinating.

Shinobu's mother had been saying she felt the beginnings of a sickness in her bones all night, but Miyagi didn't see anything wrong with her; in fact, she looked outright springy.

"I suppose you're right," she said to her husband, meeting his gaze with soft eyes of her own."It worked out for the best, didn't it? I didn't have to host a party while sick. That would have been a terrible ordeal."

Miyagi had a sneaking suspicion that the older woman was being a bit factitious – but for a good cause, in a way. She'd decided earlier in the year that she'd rather spend New Year's Eve with her son then with dozens of guests and no Shinobu. She'd announced to her social circle this year she wouldn't be hosting a party, and would stay only with her closest family members, as a change of pace. Shinobu hadn't said anything, but Miyagi knew while some part of Shinobu was happy his mother had chosen him, another part was upset because it was due to a reason relating to his pregnancy. There was supposed to be some sort of pregnancy glow, but Shinobu only had a cloud of gloom. Miyagi had no clue if it was because Shinobu was male and the hormones acted somewhat differently, or if it was purely Shinobu himself, but he knew carrying twins wasn't something Shinobu was enjoying, unsurprisingly. It was why he'd privately asked Risako to offer to host the party at her apartment this year – it gave Shinobu a chance to get out of the apartment he spent so much time in; perhaps it would cure a little of his cabin fever.

Still, the older woman's "sickness", even if only a cold, gave Shinobu a reason to think the small family New Year's Eve was a good thing, like something fated. She didn't even appear sick; she lacked any sort of sniffle or hoarseness or even the dark eyebags that always appeared under his students' eyes during finals week. On the other hand, Shinobu often claimed to have a cold where there was nothing externally wrong. In any case, Miyagi didn't believe her when she said it would have been a 'terrible ordeal' – Shinobu's mother liked hosting grand parties about as much as Matsuo Bashu liked haiku. She'd host a party in the midst of a tsunami, if she had to.

As if to contradict her claims of illness, the elder lady Takatsuki swiftly rose from the sofa, quickly moving forward while remaining graceful.

"I can handle it," a grumpy voice came from behind Miyagi, causing him to jump out of his skin.

Shinobu, steps heavy as he hobbled from his excessive weight, was making his way to the conversational, Risako trodding along patiently behind him. He plopped down next to Miyagi – his mother shot her son an oddly Shinobu-like glare, probably for sitting down too carelessly – and tried his best to cuddle up against him, pushing against his arm, a blush slowly shading his cheeks.

The dean across from them coughed awkwardly, and Miyagi hoped that Shinobu didn't want to do anything that would be embarrassing, because stopping Shinobu was akin to stopping a bull from charging at a red cloth – though of course the bull didn't actually react to the color red, that was a common misconception, but that wasn't the point.

The point was, if Shinobu was difficult to put reigns on in his normal state, pregnant Shinobu was ten times worse, with his weight and understandable dreary mood. Once Shinobu decided what he wanted that was it, he was like – a lemur off a cliff... no wait, that was terrible. Wasn't even true. Maybe something to do with ionic bonds? He'd always been terrible at chemistry.

"I thought the two of you were playing Karuta?" the dean said, snapping Miyagi out of his strange, most likely sleepily-induced thoughts. At least, he hoped exhaustion was the reason.

"We were," Risako said, referring to her and Shinobu, "but there's only so much of that you can play."

"What she means," Shinobu said, head moving from Miyagi's arm and posture straightening to more appropriately join in the conversation, "is that there's only so long I can play Karuta before I get bored with crushing her every time."

Risako whipped her head over to glare at Shinobu. "That's not even close to the truth, you jerk!"

Shinobu was unfazed. "But you can't deny the fact I handily beat you ever round." He smirked. "You always were a sore loser."

Before Risako could retort, the dean chuckled. "That doesn't sound too far off, Risako. If I recall correctly, the reason we stopped playing Karuta when you were old enough was because you threw a fit every time I won."

"Ah, that's not true, dear," the elder lady Takatsuki chided gently."We stopped letting you playing Karuta because it was unfairly balanced in your favor."

"My family did the same thing," Miyagi said. For some reason, he sensed Shinobu's eyes on him, like he was trying to singe Miyagi's shirt with his gaze. "The last New Year's Eve I spent with my parents, they banned me from play."

The dean sniffled. "Ah, the downfalls of knowledge," he said dramatically.

Risako nodded from where she sat on the armrest. "I remember that. You sulked for the whole night."

"I did not!" Miyagi said indigently. He really hadn't. Well, mostly...

Shinobu grunted. For a moment, Miyagi figured it was because Risako had mentioned something that happened when they were still married, but then he realized Shinobu was glaring at his stomach.

"You alright, Shinobu?" his mother asked.

"Yes," Shinobu said, through gritted teeth. "They just won't stop moving."

"Well, there's two of them, it's not like there's much room to move," Risako said.

"Trust me, it doesn't get any better when they get out," the dean muttered.

Shinobu frowned. "Can we talk about something else?"

Shinobu's mother started a coughing fit. Risako jumped from where she was sitting, darting to the kitchenette.

"I'll get you a glass of water! Do you need anything else?" The sound of glass clinking and water pouring from a faucet reverberated through the tiny apartment.

Shinobu looked uneasy, twisting the ribbed hem of his sweater with his hand.

"You alright?" Miyagi said. Shinobu was getting a bit pale, shifting a bit in the seat. His eyes darted to Miyagi. They looked a bit wet to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just... hormonal stuff." He blushed, ducking his head. "I'm just being oversensitive, that's all."

Miyagi wasn't sure what Shinobu meant, exactly, but he rubbed Shinobu's back all the same. "Don't worry about it," he murmured.

"Do you need any more water?" Risako said, talking to her mother.

Miyagi looked up to see Risako hovering over her mother, lines of worry etched on her face. Her mother, for what it was worth, seemed fine; the dean beside her certainly didn't look concerned.

"I'm quite alright, dear," the elderly woman said, handing her empty glass over to Risako as she started to stand up. "But I don't think I'll make it to the first sunrise, this time. You do have a guest room...?"

Risako nodded. "First door on the left."

The dean got up, clasping his wife's arm as the two of them got up from the sofa. "I think I'll tuck in as well," he said. "Sleep well, all."

The usual exchange of good nights took place, then the elderly couple made their way into the spare bedroom.

There was a long silence. "They're totally doing it."

"Shinobu!" Risako scolded, face flaring up. Miyagi began a sudden coughing fit.

"What, we were all thinking it," Shinobu deadpanned. He was sitting a bit stiffly; Miyagi, fully recovered from coughing, rubbed one of his lover's shoulders automatically.

"I wasn't," Risako said, throwing her brother a sharp glance.

Shinobu shrugged. "They're in love, they're happy, why wouldn't they engage in a bit of hime kajime once they have the chance?"

Risako bit the inside of her lip as her eyes briefly flitted to the door to the guest room. She frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "In a guest room, though?A _relative's _guest room?"

Miyagi could see it coming, but he couldn't stop the Shinobu juggernaut. "Sure, why not? Miyagi and I did."

Risako, who had begun tucking a second strand of hair behind her ear, paused and let the hair fall in front of her face. She didn't seem to notice it. "You... um... that's... good to know." Risako's face had gone alarmingly red, and she practically jumped up from her seat, nearly hitting the coffee table with her knee. "I need to go to the bathroom," she announced, and scampered off.

Miyagi shot Shinobu a look.

Shinobu, wide-eyed and innocent, asked, "What? It's not weird, is it?"

"I don't think so," Miyagi mumbled. "Risako has some strange conniptions. It's not like we were using my grandmother's couch or something."

Shinobu, lips pursed, settled further into the loveseat cushions.

"You alright?" Miyagi asked.

"Yeah, just trying to get comfortable," Shinobu said, shifting again. "Though sometimes I think it's a fruitless task..."

Miyagi put his hands on Shinobu's shoulders and gave a light message to his lover's neck, kneading out the knots.

"Miyagi," Shinobu said, face flush and eyes bright, "thank you. I love you."

Miyagi ignored the way his heart lurched, as it always did when Shinobu was being so cute. "If you say anything about hime kajime on this couch you will never get to experience it this year."

Shinobu's gaze turned to a glower. "Miyagi! It's your mind that's in the gutter, not mine!"

There was no time for Miyagi to rebuke him, however, as Risako had decided to grace them with her presence again.

"Listen, I'm going to have to lie down a little early," she said. Her face looked pale and she was clutching her stomach.

"Too weak to handle staying up all night?" Shinobu said, but his face showed concern.

"No," Risako said, her face contorting in pain. "I really need to lie down."

Shinobu was pinching the front of the throat, something he did when he was worried, so Miyagi said, "Is it that monthly problem you have?"

Risako narrowed her eyes. "Yes. And there's a heating pad on my name on it. Now if you excuse me, I need my beauty rest."

Shinobu didn't make his usual smart-ass comment as Risako went upstairs, his brows furrowed. "She gets sick like this every month?"

"Shinobu," Miyagi said, sighing, "what do women experience once a month that we don't?"

His face flushed. "Oh!" He crumpled his left pants leg, frowning."I didn't know that kind of stuff hurt."

"For some women, it does," Miyagi said.

Shinobu let his gaze fall to his stomach without glaring at it – a rare occurrence these days. "I really don't know much about girls."

Miyagi took his left hand, squeezing it, and gave Shinobu a comforting pat on the leg. "Don't sweat it. They're not all that different. You'll be fine."

Shinobu smiled at him, eyes soft. "Miyagi," he mumbled, and leaned his head on Miyagi's shoulder.

"Are you going to sleep?" Miyagi asked. He wasn't a fan of his shoulder becoming a pillow.

"Stupid Miyagi, I always make it to sunrise," Shinobu growled. "I'm just resting my eyes."

"If you say so," Miyagi said. As Shinobu settled his face further into his shoulder, Miyagi tried not to squirm. "Uh, if it's alright with you, I'm going to work on grading papers."

"If you do that now, you'll owe me lots of time later," Shinobu mumbled as he moved his head off Miyagi's shoulders so he could grab the papers. "And not only for hime kajime."

"Of course, Shinobu," Miyagi murmured, not bothering to mention he planned to do so anyway.

There was no reply, only the sensation of Shinobu's head resting against his shoulder again. Miyagi took the paper he'd been grading before, along with the pen, and started reading. It wasn't long before he heard the familiar sound of light snoring.

Miyagi shook his head and went back to his work. At least he'd get to see the first sunrise.

* * *

_Egoist_

It was too fucking early in the morning.

It was daybreak. While most people had stayed up to watch the first sunrise, they hadn't suffered due to a baby crying incessantly for the past three hours.

Hiroki supposed he should be more concerned about the crying, and he would be if Nowaki and his mother hadn't both assured him they knew exactly what was going on, it was only colic, and there was no reason to take her to a hospital.

Everyone, including his father, had taken their turn at attempting to soothe Yuzumi, but the high-pitched wailing had perpetuated; Nowaki and his mother had taken to discussing various methods for dealing with colic before his father had finally given up, and, earplugs firmly inserted, gone to bed. Hiroki had gone to find sanctuary in his temporary home office not long after.

His "office" was a library with a desk, a laptop, and a seemingly endless amount of papers; among them was a long article the dean had asked him to peer review for publication a few days ago. In the same e-mail, the dean had also seen fit to remind Hiroki that, even with his – justified, of course – absence, he was up for tenure next year. Hiroki was doing everything he could to prevent his sick leave from somehow working as a determent against him.

"Hiro-san," he heard a voice call out from the doorway, causing him to look up from the printed pages; as it was, the characters were starting to become blurry, and he knew he didn't need a new prescription.

Nowaki had opened the door to the room, and all that followed him was the sound of sweet, blessed silence.

"She stopped crying?" he asked.

"And fell asleep," Nowaki responded.

He almost smiled, but an inkling of concern was making itself known. "In the bassinet?" Hiroki asked gruffly. His mother _had _been up for a while...

"Dad woke up and agreed to sleep with her actually," Nowaki admitted. "He took out his earplugs and everything. Mom found an extra futon; she didn't want to sleep next to Yuzu-chan while she felt so exhausted."

"Good," Hiroki mumbled."It can't hurt to be safe."

Nowaki smiled and put a hand in Hiroki's hair, and leaned down to rest his face there. "You're such a good, concerned parent, Hiro-san."

Hiroki's face heated up. "Yeah, yeah."

The silence that had evaded them throughout the night and early morning accompanied them now, prompting Hiroki to ask,"So this colic thing... how long does it last?"

Nowaki laughed. "You mean when is Yuzumi going to become more calm?" he teased gently. "A few weeks, most likely."

"So, it just goes away?" Hiroki asked, running a hand through his hair. "What even causes it in the first place?"

"We don't really know. There are dozens of theories, everything from trauma to indigestion." Nowaki smiled pleasantly, a sweet smile that was still a little restrained. "Babies are mysterious to the medical community, especially since they can't talk. And science isn't always exactly simple, easy, or straightforward."

Hiroki made a non-committal noise.

Nowaki's gaze flitted to the article Hiroki had been reading. Hiroki heard his breath hitch in disapproval. "It's ridiculous that the Dean assigned you that. You're on sick leave."

Hiroki held back a huff. He knew Nowaki was only being very sensitive to this type of thing because he valued family so highly. "It's good for me to able to continue to contribute academically, especially since I'm coming up for tenure next year."

"You're on sick leave, though," Nowaki reiterated, frowning. "They can't penalize you for not working while you're out sick."

Hiroki's eyes darted back to the paper as he said, "Well, yes, but... I'd rather not take any chances." He grimaced, and with a slight sigh added, "you know how it is, publish or perish."

Nowaki made a slight hum of disapproval, but otherwise reminded quiet as Hiroki made various marks on the paper. That is, until, "Hiro-san?"

Hiroki glanced up at him. "What?"

"Would you like to watch the first sunrise with me?" Nowaki's normally lovely clear blue irises where rimmed with red from lack of sleep. There were dark bags forming under his eyes, and his smile looked awfully watery. Still, Hiroki found him breathtaking.

Hiroki shook his head to clear his mind. He must be really tired to be thinking such ridiculously sappy thoughts.

Nowaki's face fell. "No?" he said. He sounded like he might cry.

Hiroki flushed. "No, I didn't mean –" He paused, trying to find the right words. Even if he'd wanted to say no to Nowaki, it was like saying no to an adorable puppy. Which he didn't want to, anyway, thank goodness.

"No, it's okay, Hiro-san, I understand," Nowaki said, in the tone of a crushed martyr."Work is very important, after all."

Hiroki winced. "No, you idiot, that wasn't –" He cleared his throat. "The head shake wasn't in reply to you, I'm just tired, that's all."

"Oh, I understand, Hiro-san! You need sleep," Nowaki said, his face lit up like the beatific light of the first sunrise.

Hiroki almost shook his head again at his thoughts, but stopped himself. He _really_ needed sleep. "So do you," he mumbled. Then added more clearly, "but we can both get sleep after viewing the sunrise."

"Of course, Hiro-san!" Nowaki said brightly.

Hiroki took off his glasses and placed them on the table, then walked over to the window facing east. Nowaki opened the shutters. Hiroki kept his gaze on the horizon as Nowaki grabbed his waist and held him close. The loudest sound in the early hour was the beating of his own heart.

"Happy New Year, Hiro-san," Nowaki said as the sun began to flood the sky with its bright spectrum of dawn's light.

"You too," Hiroki said, and let himself relax.

It was going to be a very stressful year ahead.


End file.
